


Exposure

by IheartIntelligence



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: AU, Adult Content, Death, Effed Up Family Ties, F/F, F/M, No Supernatural Happenings, Wayhaught - Freeform, slowburn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:29:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 45,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27692150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IheartIntelligence/pseuds/IheartIntelligence
Summary: Nicole - The melancholy Photographer wandering quietly through life trying her hardest to find her missing pieces and keep human connection to a minimum.Waverly - The loner History Graduate with a sad, dark past and a penchant for the study of death.Both tempting fate and the Universe to bring them something to change it all. Will their worlds collide? Will it be each other?
Relationships: Nicole Haught & Bobo Del Rey | Robert Svane, Nicole Haught & Doc Holliday, Nicole Haught/Shae Pressman, Waverly Earp & Nicole Haught, Waverly Earp/Champ Hardy, Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Comments: 157
Kudos: 434





	1. I Find my Mind...

_“…I find my mind travelling to you more often than not these days. I imagine what it would be like to sit with you, talk over coffee, watch as the sunlight dances over your features. I imagine the images of you I could produce in your quiet moments, your soft days and the curl of your lips coming through the film as I make you laugh…_

_I make a point of not investing, W. I’ve told you so many times on paper, in my head, in so many different ways, that alone is the better road. Everybody leaves in one way or another. So many times on paper and in so many different ways, you have agreed._

_I can’t fight the fact any longer that you have changed my life over the last six months. These letters, these…conversations between us. The anticipation that hangs in the air as I wait for your reply and all without ever physically being near you…_

_I have opened up and laid myself bare before you, she of the other world. Faceless woman of the unknown. The most private of thoughts that run through me, over me, around me. This was impossible for me to have ever done before you. Maybe because I haven’t crossed your path? As if I’m talking only to myself?_

_You have opened the world of possible to me. The world of want and raw need, for you. And it’s scary as shit. Hell I wouldn’t be surprised if these admissions scare you and this communication is the last we have._

_I’m willing to take that risk, to be able to finally admit these things, W. I would risk it all to jump with you, if you would jump with me._

_You have my undivided attention._

_I think we need to meet…”_

_N_

……..

Waverly sat back in her chair and remembered to breathe. The brunette had known within herself that this had been coming for a little while now. Only because if the woman that had penned the letter she had just finished reading hadn’t of stated it, she herself would have.

N had consumed her inner most thoughts for months now. Months. What had begun as nothing more than a stupid remark in a book she never thought would get noticed 12 months ago, had turned in to the most amazing adventure she could have imagined being on. 

So many thoughts squirmed through her mind as she threaded out the implications of meeting the mysterious, yet thought provoking, button pushing, enigma of a woman that only signed herself off as _N_. Oh how she wanted to. Waverly had wanted to for the longest time. Her brain wandered down the path of imagination with the mysterious photographer more than she could admit to anyone, ever.

Waverly herself, was a loner. Just as N had written, everyone always left in one way or the other. The dark haired woman had no time in her life for anyone who wanted to play those stupid games. She would never commit and even with Champ it was purely casual and only when she felt the need rise within her, to unwind the tightly wrapped coil constantly following her around internally. He didn’t seem too fussed that she was seeing him less and less these days anyway. He had plenty of numbers to call aside from Waverly’s, which he never made a secret of, either. It suited her to be involved casually with a womaniser, she admitted to herself for years, because it was the least chance of someone wanting anything serious and long term from her.

Waverly leaned forward, grabbing at her coffee cup to take a sip of the now lukewarm liquid. She stared out of her apartment window at the frost beginning to seep in at the edges, bristling its way further and further towards the centre. She turned up the heat and ran her slender fingers through thick, wavy hair and sighed. Ottawa would be stupidly cold again this year. Balls.

It would take at least one week to get a reply from anything she sat and wrote back to N. She wanted to write back immediately however she needed the moment to adjust. God how this woman had taken over her thoughts. Her dreams. More than once, Waverly had woken in sweat and loud pants, hand at her centre, from dreaming of the mysterious woman who had described herself as tall, auburn haired and alabaster toned. All warm honey eyes and Waverly could only imagine what the dimples looked like that N admitted her face made apparent when she smiled, which wasn’t often, she recalled, from a letter she had once received.

Waverly was scared. Just as the letter stated, it was scary as shit to feel the things she was feeling. Her heart fluttered in her chest at the thought of N becoming invested in their connection, however strangely it had come about. Waverly admitted to herself that she too, had become heavily invested. Deep set, inner Waverly would normally want to run. And run far. She still saw herself as a flight risk in that present moment but something kept pulling at her to remain. 

_“…I would risk it all to jump with you, if you would jump with me. You have my undivided attention…”_

As Waverly ran the words over her tongue she hummed quietly at the thought of being able to touch her. Run her fingertips over the taller woman’s pale skin. Watch as her hooded eyes became pools of want, only for her. Watch her enraptured when they spoke of nature, biology, art, photography. Death. She hummed again and closed her eyes as she imagined waking up beside her, warm breath on her shoulder as she kissed her softly awake, moving downwards to where she was craved…

Waverly came back to reality and let out another huffed breath. N definitely had Waverly’s undivided attention as well, it would seem. So, so dangerous to let herself feel this way. It was dangerous for the other woman as well, considering the bit of background she knew about the mysterious lady and why she also chose to go it alone, most of her adult life.

The brunette reached down to grab at the shoe box beside her feet. As she opened the lid and trailed her fingers over the envelopes, she went to the bottom of the pile, reaching for the first ever one. She took herself back to where it had all started, knowing it would help her make her decision…

……..

**12 months previous:**

Waverly stood in the cramped bookshop, eyeing the numerous timber shelves jam packed with spine after interesting spine of pages. She could lose herself in here for an eternity and still never get through everything she wanted to. She had made it a habit whenever she travelled somewhere, to find the smaller, out-of-the-way book places to sit and relax. Take stock of her current situation and lose herself in the smell of paper and dust and raw ink.

As she was handed her coffee, she smiled politely at the cashier and made her way towards the back of the building. Floor to ceiling shelves ran along most of the walls. Those shelves that weren’t as high leaving the walls exposed, had given the owner the opportunity to pepper them with expressive, random and chaotic art work. Waverly had spent half an hour scanning the shelves when she had found a book that piqued her interest.

As she sat and stared towards the front of the store, she was happy that she had found a quiet, out of the way place. As the mottled ginger and black furry being made its way toward the small brunette, she opened the first page, smiling down at it.

“Going to look at some cemetery’s this trip, bud. Hoping this will get me geared up.” She smiled as the furry fiend mewed softly and jumped up on the chair opposite her.

Waverly had found herself in Buffalo, New York for the last few days. There to talk about the possibility of a position at the Museum of Science when she was finished her Degrees, she never quite knew how to take a place until she had searched out their main cemetery. How they treated their dead was always of interest to the young woman as she was drawn to the study of Thanatology. Along side her Natural History Major, she was set in her current job as PA to the Curator of the Canadian Museum of Nature back in Ottawa but obviously didn’t want to be an Assistant her whole life. She wouldn’t be studying if that were the case.

Death had consumed Waverly for most of her young life. Her adult life too. She had decided that if it was going to remain a running theme, she would give herself the power to embrace it, not be afraid of it. Knowledge was power, after all. Hence the attraction to Thanatology, or the study of death itself. As well as the actual mechanisms of death, Thanatology taught the wider psychological and social aspects of it as well. How people viewed death, dealt with death and with grief. Waverly would no longer be scared, as an adult, if she could help it.

“Beautiful Death…” she breathed out the Title quietly to herself as she began to thumb through the pages. 

She sat in quiet awe as she ran her thumb over images depicting great stone structures of worship and gratitude to their departed family members and friends. Mausoleums full of wonder and love, loss and heartache. She caught her breath as she wondered how a single photo could convey the sadness contained within a wall of plaques with ashes hidden, however show the happiness of celebrating a passed loved one at the same time.

“Staring in to your future, huh?” Waverly’s thoughts were interrupted by a raven haired woman of similar height to herself.

“I’m sorry?” Waverly quizzed as she looked up, clearing her mind away from the thoughts of ashes and walls.

“Just coming to see if you needed a refill and I saw what you were studying there. That kind of place is in everyone’s future.” She smiled solemnly as she held out the coffee pot to the small woman in the chair.

“Well…true.” Waverly volleyed back.

“Spend your time wisely, girlfriend. We may all die alone but that doesn’t mean you have to walk through life without someone to sometimes hold your hand.” The raven haired woman smiled at Waverly a little brighter this time.

“Oh God no. That’s all too complicated for me. Fates plan for me is to remain a loner, I’m convinced.” Waverly smiled back as she sipped at her cup, adding the sugar that was offered to her.

“What do you think, Shop Cat? Yeah…I didn’t think so either.” She snorted in reply as she looked over to the furball curled up on the other chair, lifting his head to meow quietly.

“Tempt fate then, if that’s what you’re convinced of. Be a little crazy and imaginative. See if fate likes the idea of you being a solo traveller while you trip around the sun. My gut tells me someone like you…there’s someone for you. Their heart will call right when you both need it to.” The cashier winked at her as she walked off, leaving Waverly to mull over their small but significant interaction.

The small brunette sat back in her chair and pondered, staring down at the book in her lap. She absentmindedly traced her thumb over the wings of a moss covered Gabriel, standing high in watch over a family plot. As she read the fine print, she noticed the grainy, over exposed shot had been taken there, locally at a place called Forest Lawn Cemetery.

Waverly wandered off in her brain for a moment. Okay so what would happen if she did tempt fate? She knew it was a farce. No one or no one thing was going to just magically jump out at her and make her fall madly and deeply, changing the course of her life forever. That shit was for saps who knew no better. She was too cold and cut off for such things. People left. People died. Live with the right now and never think too far ahead. The only thing she ever thought further ahead about was her career. Nothing more.

Still, something had sparked in her at the raven haired woman’s comment. Ignited the tiniest of embers in the back of her brain, the deep recess of her chest. Tempt fate. Waverly knew her course in life better than anything else. She didn’t allow room for anything else, that was why and it was done on purpose. Nothing would throw her off her beaten path. 

She huffed out a derisive breath at herself for wasting good brain energy on the split moment consideration. It kept niggling at her, though and she found herself looking at the thing the cashier had called Shop Cat.

“Should I just?” She asked the fluff ball opposite her.

He flicked his tail at her in response, popping himself off the chair as he walked towards her. Rubbing himself at her ankle, he deftly jumped up on her, sitting across the book in her lap. Waverly giggled quietly as she moved to scratch at him behind the ear, eliciting the beginnings of a purr from deep in his throat. He quietly began to paw at the statue of Gabriel beneath him as she scratched.

“Well…okay then. Let’s see if fate will let me die all alone, without the need to be babysat and have my hand held, yeah?” He mewed quietly in response.

She gently removed him and placed him on the ground beside her, as she grabbed a pen from her bag. Waverly ear tagged the page, with the washed out, grainy picture of the moss covered Angel as she began to write her small message underneath the turned down corner.

_“Death never takes the wise man by surprise, he is always ready to go…”  
Mail box 298, 340 Euclid Av, Ottawa_

The quote had always been earth shatteringly loud within Waverly’s ears, following her down her path since the death of her older sister, shortly after the death of her father and disappearance of her other older sister. She studied and applied herself and withdrew to within. She was the wise man. Death would not take her by surprise as it had done in her younger years. Never again.

“Alright Shop Cat, looks crazy and imaginative to me. If someone by chance finds that and it speaks to them enough to write to my town Mailbox…hell I would say that’s tempting fate. That someone would have to be pretty amazeballs.” She laughed as she scratched the cat behind the ears again and stood to get ready to depart.

As she closed the book, she took one last look at the moss covered Angel. If she had the time, she would try to find it on her trip around Buffalo and it’s cemeteries. Waverly slid the book back on to the shelf from where she had originally fetched it and headed back towards the counter.

“Tempt fate?” The caramel skinned woman asked with a smile.

“Oh and then some.” Waverly winked back at her sarcastically.

“Rosie. I’m sure that heart will call to you sooner or later.” She winked back.

“Waverly. And I’m sure whomever it belongs to, it will continue to stay as quiet as it is now.” She laughed as she exited the unique little hole in the wall. 

Tragedy had littered Waverly’s life for as long as she could remember. Even so, she took mild enjoyment out of the moments where she genuinely laughed as it didn’t happen often. This was one of those times. She turned her head to the sky as she made her way down the sidewalk.

She mumbled quietly.

“Good luck, Universe.” She giggled and shook her head as she walked in to the afternoon sun.

**Six months later:**

Waverly struggled with the coffee in her small hand, fishing in her pocket with the other, for the key to her mailbox.

“God damnit.” She mumbled, as the coffee spilled slightly, the angle becoming too inclined as she was contorting herself for the key ring stuck on the seam of the denim.

Once freed, she opened the metal slot and collected the various envelopes and papers, heading towards her Jeep to get herself home, her final assessment pending.

She arrived home to a warm house, the coffee machine had begun its song 15 minutes earlier.

“Thank fuck for timers.” She thought, as she slugged off her bag, heading towards the bathroom to shower and rid herself of the weight of the day.

As the warm water sluiced over her, visions of Willa danced through her head. Between Willa and Wynonna, her two older sisters, she was never fully alone in her mind or her dreams. Ward, her father, only seemed to want to show up in her nightmares. Figures.

Willa was headstrong and defiant. She knew what she wanted from life and be damned if she wasn’t going to get it. Daddy loved her. He just loved her the most. Wynonna and Waverly could never get close to the pedestal he placed the older sibling on. She stood above all and even though she knew it, she tried her best not to show it.

There were times though, it came through. Waverly stung at the thoughts. Willa teasing and poking and prodding her for reactions she knew she would get. Blaming Waverly when all hell broke loose because of her constant prodding and jabbing of the younger girls buttons. Ward was never too far behind with the strap, or the back of his hand to put her back in her place. Waverly found herself wincing as the water no longer warmed her. Wynonna would appear shortly after, soothing away her tears and threatening to kick the shit out of Willa, should she do it again. 

Waverly exited the shower before the familiar flashes of Willa in the barn back home found purchase in her brain matter. Death was a surprise then. Death was a surprise before then. But not any more. She had the power, so long as she stayed on her path. Finished her education and lead the solitary life of withdrawal that she had become so accustomed to. 

As she sat at the table with a fresh brew, drying her hair with a towel, she began to flick through her mail. Two utility bills and a magazine from National Geographic. Nothing too serious. One bank statement followed by a slightly crinkled, cream envelope. It looked like it had been caught in spatters of rain somewhere along the way to a mailbox, to get to her.

There was nothing on the front of the envelope except for her Mailbox address and nothing on the reverse when the small woman flipped it to have a look. She raised her eyebrows, tilting her head in slight confusion as she ran her fingertip underneath the flap to separate it from the larger part of the envelope. 

As she withdrew the crisp, white piece of paper, she studied the hand written note in black ink. Beautiful, neat, cursive handwriting just delicate enough for Waverly to know it was forged by a female hand. 

_“Do not fear death, for it is always at our side. When we show fear, it jumps at us faster than light. But, if we do not show fear, it casts its eye upon us gently and then guides us in to infinity…”_

_N – Mailbox 54, 6th Street, Buffalo NY_

Waverly continued to stare at the white paper. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she had made fun of fate and it’s friend the Universe and now they were hardcore fucking with her. Giving her just enough time to forget about her random note on a page, in a book, in a store, before they had decided it was time for her to listen to them.

She ran the tip of her finger over the N at the end of the page. Whoever this was, had picked up the book she had sitting in her lap six months previously, found the tagged page and corrected the fold. Finding her note they had decided to respond to her. This was completely outrageous. The odds of it actually happening must have been…profound.

Yet here she was, sitting at her table staring at the note. Staring at the beautiful, effortless loops and joins of the lettering. Staring at the N and wondering for all she was worth, what it stood for.

“Fate. Huh. Well how ‘bout that.” Waverly huffed out a breath.

She found the corners of her mouth curling upwards in a smile as she tapped the paper up and down on her warm palm, already composing her response in her brain.


	2. Signed and Sealed...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe she would never be able to explain the urge that came across her to take the address and make a note of it, for later. Maybe she would never be able to explain why that one little statement had been profound enough for her to want to respond with a statement of her own. To reach out in to the void for the first time in she didn’t even know how long, looking for something to reach out and touch her back. She didn’t know, but she wanted to.
> 
> And with the way Nicole had been choosing to live her life for over ten years, _just wanting to_ , was enough.

**Six months previous:**

Signed and sealed, albeit with a singular _N_ , Nicole placed the cream envelope at the edge of the table under her keys, to remind herself to take it with her when she headed out. Climbing the stairs towards the bathroom, Nicole tried not to concentrate on how weary she was. She hadn’t slept properly for years and it showed. In the amount of coffee she lived on, in the unused spaces of her house. Hell, it even showed in the amount of food she ate.

Nicole could tell herself that she was taking care of her mind and her body well enough, but even she knew she was full of shit. She drank more beer than she ate food. Drank more coffee than she did beer. If she slept three to four hours in a 24 hour period, that was a good day. Her mind was flooded with ideas at the stupidest of moments and sometimes, she had to pull herself out and explore it. 

If she didn’t capture what she was feeling, thinking, _living_ in that moment it drove her crazy. The closest she ever got to connection was through her photos. Human connection was too much for her. Everyone found a way to leave, whether physically or emotionally. They just fucked off. Nicole had bounced around the Foster system long enough until she had bounced herself out of it as a teenager, to know. She was okay with that. Now.

Nicole made a point of keeping the world and the people on it, at arms length. Down the lens of her camera was close enough. The tall red head had been praised time again for her work. Rewarded, displayed, featured, paid. And paid well. It didn’t fill the void, though and she never expected it to. Beer and coffee did a lot to try. That was okay.

Discovered randomly as her prints were displayed at a street market downtown, Nicole still found it hard to reconcile within herself something so bizarre. Bobo had been a mismatched friend of hers for so long, it was sometimes hard to recall how it was they met. Either way, they both shied away from human connection and got lost in their respective fields. Bobo a painter, she with her camera and keen eye. Meeting up in the park weekly, Nicole took a six pack with her as they sat crossed legged opposite each other, basking in the sunlight and the company. Sometimes no words were exchanged as the eccentric pair lay down on the grass and drank. When she was exhausted from too much of his company, she would stand to leave, nodding in the tall mans direction. He would do the same. Simple. Easy. Just how she liked her interactions away from her camera.

Bobo had insisted on sitting her prints on his stands each week at the markets. Insisted and insisted until she had finally relented and let him have two to display. The heavily moustached man that wandered by apparently insisted on buying both without argument. The under exposed, heavily gloomy shot of the vine covered, stone Celtic cross his favourite by far. It still hung on his wall.

That man, now her manager, was constantly pissy at her for never wanting the spotlight. Nicole was renowned but next to no one knew who she was publicly, what she even looked like. He was pissy she wouldn’t move to Manhattan, wouldn’t show up in Galleries when she was celebrated. Hated events with more than a handful of people. The more elusive she was, the more people wanted her. Unless it was through her lens, Nicole couldn’t be bothered with any of it. 

Whatever it was that died within her the day her parents did, she had been spending a lifetime staring through a camera trying to get it back. Trying to capture it. Death was a bastard, but she was ready for him, should he wish to pay her a visit. Nicole would invite him in and ask if he wanted a drink when he showed up, she was sure of it.

She smiled at herself in the mirror as she ran the words through her brain one more time.

_“…Death never takes the wise man by surprise, he is always ready to go…”_

Nicole was the wise man. A solitary life had meant no connections to any one. No connections to most things. It wouldn’t hurt anybody if she was no longer around. She wasn’t suicidal. Lord, far from it. She was just comfortable enough within her melancholy that if he came knocking, she wouldn’t be afraid to answer. If he left it until much later to do so, she was just as happy to keep living through her lens and chasing the lost part of herself she had been trying to recapture. The spark.

She smiled again at the thought of the tiny little spark that had permitted itself entry, when she had corrected the dog eared page in her favourite bookstore, the day before. When the tall, pale woman wasn’t working hard to evoke emotion, thought, feeling from her subjects and clients, she photographed at the local Cemeteries and nature surrounds. Gravestones, headstones. Walls and places of worship to those that had been lost to their loved ones.

Sometimes, when it was permitted, Nicole had been blessed enough to photograph those important statues and places of love, along with the grieving, love wracked souls of the left behind. With permission from those individuals or families, some of those images had been developed and presented. Hung in Galleries all over, Nicole had been praised for her realistic view of the world. She didn’t want praise though. She was just happy that other human beings became more humble around these shots and remembered how fleeting time and people really could be. No one was around forever. Nicole of all people, constantly faced the reminder of that.

……..

Sitting with her coffee and making sure to give Shop Cat his treat, Nicole had begun to flip through the book in front of her. Beautiful bright, colourful shots of headstones bathed in sunlight, corresponded to those awash with vibrant variations of flowers and plants surrounding the concrete structures. 

Nicole sat twirling a strand of her shoulder length hair around her finger as she imagined the photographer trying to capture the beauty in death. The colour and poise of a perfectly placed flower arrangement, made even more breathtaking once per day when the sun rose at just the right angle. Placed with all the love and care in the world atop the concrete piece, boasting of heart and want and missing. Love.

As she flipped the page with a smile, the tall woman was presented with a moss covered Gabriel. How magnificent he was. Standing proud, one foot further forward than the other, right arm proudly across his midsection grasping on to the trumpet at his side. The photographer had over exposed the shot and left it grainy which added character to the darker moment. 

Nicole continued to smile to herself as she absentmindedly corrected the dog eared page in the corner, only to find writing underneath. The saying scribbled in small, neat, printed handwriting was followed by a mailbox address. The taller woman found herself sitting a little more upright as she repeated the words to herself quietly. Oh how they spoke to her. She was ready. She had been ready since she could remember.

She penned the mailbox address down on the pale skin of her wrist, closing the book with a small huff. What was she doing? Nicole had given zero thought to what she had just done, as if on autopilot. She didn’t even know who this person was, how long ago the message had been composed, nothing. Nicole found that the writing looked to be distinctly feminine, but who even knew that to be correct?!

Maybe she would never be able to explain the urge that came across her to take the address and make a note of it, for later. Maybe she would never be able to explain why that one little statement had been profound enough for her to want to respond with a statement of her own. To reach out in to the void for the first time in she didn’t even know how long, looking for something to reach out and touch her back. She didn’t know, but she wanted to.

And with the way Nicole had been choosing to live her life for over ten years, _just wanting to_ , was enough.

“Until next time, Shop.” Nicole cooed, bending down to reach for the mottled furball and give him a scratch.

“Didn’t stay for long today?” Rosie enquired as the tall woman made her way down the four steps to the entrance.

“Not today Rosita, I find I need to be somewhere else.” Nicole smiled.

“Well now! I haven’t seen you smile like that in some time, Haught. I forgot what those dimples looked like. Find something you liked, eh?” Rosie snickered in response.

“Something like that.” Nicole replied as she waved goodbye. 

She found herself feeling lighter on her trek home, the wind smashing against her as she pulled her jacket in closer to her chest, head downwards battling the elements as she reached her steps a few blocks later. 

……..

The Photographer popped the top off her first beer for the day, sitting down at the table to remove her boots, putting them underneath her chair. As she sat and looked around, she wondered why she ever had a place that size. She recounted the numerous times over the years that she had returned home to the kitchen for beer or coffee. Made her way upstairs to the bathroom to shower. Exited and finished her choice of beverage as she headed for the bedroom to the right which she had converted in to a dark room.

That room was her lifeblood. Nicole spent the majority of her home time in there, amongst her trays and Developer. Exposing and experimenting, bringing her film to life before her eyes. The auburn haired woman relished being able to bring a person to life underneath her fingertips, wading in the liquid as it washed away the emulsion layer from the paper. Their expressions of joy, pain, grief, happiness. All hers to master and capture for the world to see, should she wish to share them.

Often she would fall to sleep in the armchair of that room, surrounded by the people and objects she photographed so beautifully, barely able to drag herself to her own bedroom. She would awake after one to two hours, shower off the smell of Developer and chemical and go for a run or to the gym and back again, before her next photo shoot or idea that came to her at a ridiculous hour. This was her steady, quiet life. This was okay.

Nicole brought herself back to ground, noticing herself rubbing the spot on her wrist she had written the elusive persons mailbox information on. 

“Why not?” She breathed out quietly. 

Nicole Haught had nothing to lose.

As she penned her words on the crisp, white paper, she signed with an N, cautious with herself not to give her name. 

“Mmm. Why not indeed…” she whispered quietly to herself again as she placed the paper in the envelope.

……..

As the Photographer made her way out of the building the next day, she looked up to find storm clouds approaching from the east. The air was already heaving and full of moisture by the time she had made it half way down her block to her mailbox spot. Another block later and the red head was beginning to feel the spatter of random raindrops on the sensitive parts of her scalp.

Nicole was facing a heavier shower as she reached the postbox, telling herself to stop thinking and just do it before the envelope became soaked through. She shook as she brought the metal handle down, shoving the envelope through and quickly closing the receptacle. Two minutes later she was sitting in the booth of the diner across the road from the box, watching it as she sipped on her coffee and tried to get her wet jacket off from around her.

“No shooting today…” she mumbled to herself as she watched the rain dance heavier and heavier on the pavement outside.

The woman startled herself and almost spilled the hot liquid in her hand as her phone rang, jolting her from her thoughts.

“Haught, when do I get to see you?” Came the southern drawl from the end of the line.

“Well hi there John Henry and no time soon, if I can help it.” The red head replied back with a small smile.

“You are my number one client, Miss Haught. Number one. The first image I bought still hangs in here. Now how am I expected to manage your ass when I never see you to do so?” He asked as she heard him light a cigar down the line.

“Holliday I pay you well and you come up with some surprisingly good leads for work. When I choose to take them. Shouldn’t that be enough?” She countered back as she sipped on her coffee.

“Surprisingly good leads? Well now that’s a real surprise there. You barely take notice of most things I say, darlin’ admit it.” Holliday replied with a chuckle.

“I’m an artist I guess, it has to come from inside sometimes. I can’t be inspired by being told how to do something, John. You know that.”

“Oh I am aware. Most definitely Miss Haught, please do not misunderstand my comment. There is just a part of me that feels bad for taking your checks when I barely interact with you. It’s only a small part, though.” With the last comment, John Henry laughed loud.

“You’re there for me at stupid hours of the day and night when I need to vent. Or talk about a crazy way of making shots work. That’s more than enough, John.” Nicole smiled at the thought. She kept him far enough away, which he knew, but was still there when she needed someone.

“Always at your Service. We’ll talk next week about the Gallery showing. Take care, Miss Haught.” Holliday ended the call in his thick accent.

Nicole looked back towards the postbox out of the diner window. She had called out to the void, challenged the Universe to see what it would bring back to her. Why? She didn’t know. Would it return anything to her? Probably not, such was her life. She let her feelings speak through her images. The rest was kept away, even from herself. That was okay. For now.


	3. Sometimes I think...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lately it seemed things were brighter, the moon shone a little more vibrantly. Smiles crept across her face more often at the thought of N sitting down to one of her letters, fantasising over the written words as she had done with the replies. Waverly was discovering that maybe she wasn’t as completely shut off to the world as she once thought she was...

**Two and a half months previous:**

_“Sometimes I think we all have this way of disconnecting. Distancing ourselves from those around us. Needing the break from things, people, life in general. I just found that what was a temporary relief, stayed on and walked with me, when I didn’t want anyone else to walk with._

_I walk with my lonely, we hold hands. We console each other, tell each other it’s fine. Lonely doesn’t wrap me up and keep me warm, but hey, I can do that myself. Anybody that I ever thought was there to do that for me is long gone, or never existed at all. This is okay though, W. It has all been okay. Up until lately, so it would seem._

_I find that the things I express to you, are long buried thoughts and feelings that I never thought would resurface._

_How easy it is to pen these to you. For you. Letting you take a look inside my world in a completely different way. I still sit here, shaking my head at how easy it was, after only a few letters, to let you in to an extremely closed off part of myself._

_I’ve also found that I shouldn’t write to you after one too many beers, I let out certain things I probably should keep to myself for the time being! I wonder if you sit there sometimes and think to yourself “this bitch is crazy but let’s see what she comes out with next!”_

_So you say you’re almost finished your study in Natural History and Thanatology? Forgive me but I am still blown away by the fact that you literally study death. Death. How intriguing you are, W._

_Death follows us all. I find myself amazingly drawn to the fact that you sit beside it comfortably, almost asking it questions about its existence. Then on the flip side you Major in Natural History – the study of **living** things. You are a walking minefield and I find myself more and more inclined to continue stumbling through it._

_What is it you are doing to me, I wonder? I appreciate the fact that I smile a little more often. I want to blame the distracting thoughts of receiving your next letter. I want to blame this roller coaster of weird, unexplained correspondence that began, seemingly out of nowhere. I want to blame you for ever writing back. I just want to blame you…_

_N x “_

……..

Waverly pulled her legs up underneath herself as she read through the inked words on white paper. The small woman couldn’t believe how much she had been looking forward to the reply from the woman in Buffalo, New York, as she curled herself tighter under the blanket on her couch.

For almost four months they had been conversing in this way, on a strange journey that had her both intrigued and exhilarated. Waverly hadn’t been this involved in something, this _present_ to something that wasn’t her study or career in years. The endless loops and swirls of the beautiful handwriting before her had begun to infiltrate her dreams.

The last few dreams, the dark haired woman enjoyed the fact that they were of something other than Willa. Wynonna or Ward. The barn and the complications that followed. The frown that had slightly creased her forehead smoothed over as she reread parts of N’s handwriting.

_“…you are a walking minefield and I find myself more and more inclined to continue stumbling through it…”_

Waverly was more than a minefield. 

Was the comment N’s way of letting the small woman know that she was planning to keep writing to her? She smiled as she sat back and sipped at her whiskey, amused at their adventure so far. In a world of technology and instant gratification, the pair had remained pen to paper, mailbox to mailbox.

In the nearly four months of penmanship, neither had asked for the others number, actual name, address or anything else of that nature. Due to the mailbox addresses they were both aware that one was in Canada and the other, just across the border in New York. N had described herself in previous correspondence, as had Waverly. 

She could ask for a phone number and send through a photo. Sure she could. So could the woman wandering around Buffalo, yet neither of them felt the pressing need. The dark haired woman found ways to imagine N as she had described herself and it was enough for Waverly at that moment and for some reason she knew deep down, N felt the exact same.

N had shared that she was a Photographer, kept to herself and often times loathed connection with others. She had suffered tragedy in her past however wasn’t open to revealing any of those turning points just yet. Waverly found herself hopeful that the other woman had made sure to say “just yet,” leaving the promise of space for her to feel safe enough to express it. Waverly noticed her eyebrows raising more than once in her quiet moments, at the thought of actually _wanting_ the woman who called herself N, to feel safe enough with her to do so. What the hell was happening to her?

Waverly moved to stretch her legs. As she rose to head to the window and peer outside, it struck her that she was beginning to care for the mystery auburn haired woman. The fact that she wanted her to feel safe talking about her past, her desires, her likes and dislikes. Her career and her solitude. These were all things that given the chance, Waverly would probably not decline an invitation to talk about in person. To offer comfort if needed, silence if required. Understanding always. 

“What gives Waverly Earp?” she questioned herself quietly as she stared at her evening reflection in the window.

“We like being alone. We don’t need company. She also likes her solitude. That is why this situation works so well, Earp. Because all parties _enjoy_ non connective interaction. Simple and easy. Remember your path.” Waverly sighed and walked away from her reflection, feeling a tad foolish for having to pep talk herself with the reminder. 

Waverly Earp still smiled when she thought about writing back to N. That was her plan for the evening.

Well…until the phone rang.

“Babe! What are you doing?” Champ cheered down the line, loudly.

Waverly felt the tension in her shoulders, only slightly, at the volume of the man on the other end. She hadn’t heard from her on again, off again distraction person for over two weeks.

“Champ. Not much, what about you?” Waverly volleyed back at a lower level.

“Want a visitor?” Champ asked, grin apparent in his tone.

Jesus he just jumps right on in to it, doesn’t he? Waverly thought to herself as she reflected for a moment. Did she want a visitor? Did she really? The inner coil was tighter than usual, she knew that and whilst she wasn’t in the mood for talk or company, she felt the need rise within her to have hands on her body.

“Come round, Champ. See you in half an hour.” The wavy haired woman smiled down the phone.

“Yes!” She could hear him clap his hands on the other end.

“Be there soon babe!” The line went dead.

Waverly poured herself another small whiskey and sipped at the liquid as she pondered her decision. She didn’t even like Champ, so what was it exactly? He used women, played them off against each other and was piggish and selfish. Nothing about the man appealed to her any longer. Not like it did four years ago. She was tired of him and his selfish ways, especially in the bedroom. Sure, he could be amazing when he applied himself and gave someone other than himself a thought. Waverly assumed this only counted during the courting stage because in her experience, once that was over and he caught what he wanted to catch, it became all about Champ.

For the smallest of moments, after reading through N’s words and letting them make patterns in her thoughts, she guessed she just wanted some sort of short term connection. Waverly couldn’t deny that she wanted the attention of the woman in Buffalo and the connection that she possibly longed for, was one of accidental touches and smiles shared between the two as they sat across from each other, in some random park or café.

Waverly raised her eyebrows and shook her head quickly.

“Jesus Earp. Stay away from that line of thinking. Remember your path. Balls.” She mumbled to herself as she straightened up, a hard knock rousing her from the front door.

Waverly opened the heavy oak to a smiling, suave looking Champ, standing there with his hands in his pockets waiting for her to answer. He beamed and licked his lips as he eyed her up and down.

“Babe!” He said loudly.

“How about we go make each other forget shit for a little while, huh?” He said as he grabbed at her waist to walk her upstairs.

“Charming, Champ.” She shook her head as she followed him, happy to switch off from the thoughts of the self proclaimed, alabaster toned woman, awaiting her reply in New York.

……..

His snoring was so loud she could have smothered him with a pillow.

It never took the well built man-child long to fall to sleep after they had finished. Not one for talking or cuddling where he was concerned, normally Waverly was happy for him to do so. She would awake in the morning to find him still there or on other occasions, already slipped out before the sun broke the horizon.

Waverly laid in the dark running lazy circles over her stomach with her fingers, feeling the skin tighten, scattered goosebumps beginning to take hold. She didn’t orgasm which she was disappointed in, gone were the days where she did, where Champ was concerned. In the beginning of things he was more considerate. Now, it was basically Champ taking care of Champ. Sleep. Get up. Leave until the next time.

Waverly couldn’t understand why she still allowed the interactions when she found less and less enjoyment in them. Especially over the last few months. Champ panting and thrusting on top of her and all she could do was steal her mind away to the auburn haired Photographer that muddied her thoughts. Reminiscing over shared words of walking similar paths in life. Refusing the contact that came with having to be involved in the world. Waverly discovering as time went on with N, being involved was what she wanted more and more.

Images of how she perceived the mystery woman danced through her head, distracting her and making her feel more than she wanted to admit to herself.

Lately it seemed things were brighter, the moon shone a little more vibrantly. Smiles crept across her face more often at the thought of N sitting down to one of her letters, fantasising over the written words as she had done with the replies. Waverly was discovering that maybe she wasn’t as completely shut off to the world as she once thought she was. 

As she lay in the cool dark, the small woman knew she wanted to share her sadness with N. She wanted to be so open with the mysterious woman she had never met and maybe never would. So open and honest it hurt. The biggest part of her, that followed Waverly in her waking hours and in her sleep, needed to be expressed to N. The raw need was overwhelming.

Her imagination began to run a little wild as she thought of opening up to the woman. If they were across from each other in the moment, N listening thoughtfully, a smooth hand running over her knee for comfort. Waverly wanted the Photographer to open up to her, to know that she could and that it was okay. They could share the burden of loss, sadness, anger and grief, together.

As her hand moved further down of its own accord, images of N danced through her head once again. Without facial features to focus on, Waverly imagined her slender fingers tracing patterns over pale hips, eliciting the most beautiful heavy breaths from the woman below her. As her lips followed behind, leaving open mouthed kisses on her skin, Waverly swore she could smell her arousal…

“Damnit Champ!” The dark haired woman muttered in frustration as she snapped her eyes open.

His snoring was bordering on fucking ridiculous.

Waverly gave up her fantasy and swung her legs over the side of the bed. As she lifted herself up and threw her robe on, she left the snoring heap of a body in her bed as she made her way downstairs. Pouring herself a much deserved nightcap, she sat at the workstation and removed the white paper from the holder.

In pristine, neat, black ink, Waverly Earp wrote.

_“N, how did I get here, I wonder?_

_It’s not much past 3am and here I am, sitting in the light of the dim lamp, whiskey at my side and completely unsatisfied with the man-child’s attempt at making me feel good. The only one he makes feel good any longer is himself. Ugh why do I let this continue? The situation is balls. Completely._

_I’m going to put it out there that it’s the least form of connection. But isn’t the point of that for me to get what I need, without having to connect? This doesn’t work if the only one getting what they need is the pile of muscle currently snoring his head off in my bed! Again, balls!_

_Now that I’ve just read that back to myself, I’m finding the need to apologise. I could just rip this up and start again and you would never know what I wrote but I won’t, I can’t. I have the overwhelming urge to just say whatever is on my mind to you, N. Happy things, day to day boring things like what I had for lunch and how the weird, nerdy new intern won’t stop staring at me at work._

_Sad things._

_You say that you want to blame me for ever writing back to you, for starting this roller coaster but I find I want to blame you too, N. For making me want to open up and share the deep and the dark with you. Making me want to share the odd moments where I dance around my living room to some stupid song and then remember I’m not a cheerleader at school any more and life is serious and to remember my path. The damn path._

_I want to tell you about the day my sister shot my father. The day my other sister took her life when it all became too much. The day after when my mother disappeared from my life, never to return and a few weeks after that when the sister who shot dad, decided she was going to leave too._

_Too much for you, yet N? Completely understandable if it is._

_See, my daddy never did like my second oldest sister or myself too much. The eldest daughter was number one. I didn’t know why. I still don’t know why and I never will. She was great at pushing buttons and she knew she was his favourite. She only liked to push buttons with me, though. She left my other sister alone. I’m still convinced she was scared of her._

_Daddy had a drinking problem and along with that came a hitting problem. An anger problem that couldn’t be squashed or placated no matter how much we all tried. One night he went too far. That night so did my second eldest sister. He had marked her up pretty bad. She waited until he walked away and she found his piece and she shot him. Just like that. Boom. Gone. I was 12, she was 16. No court was interested in charging her. Small town, see? They all knew about daddies temper._

_Flash forward two years and well…let’s just say I found the eldest. She was lost without him and the barn was their favourite place. It was also her last one. Mamma was gone less than 24 hours after I had found her there. The second eldest, gone a few weeks after that. At 14 I was…I was many things. I had an Aunt that took me in and tried for all she was worth to repair the damage and stitch me back together. It didn’t exactly work and I’ve spent the last 12 years doing it myself. I am where I am today, because of one person. Me._

_I don’t need anyone else, N. Want, that’s a different thing, but I will never need another soul. There are a million different ways to leave someone and we are capable of finding them all. I studied and found ways to deal with a situation I wasn’t capable of dealing with. This is coping. Knowledge is power and I cannot be scared of something when I know all I can about it. It works. It has to work for me, see?_

_Death really does follow us all, N. Yes, I do find that I can sit with him comfortably, I’ve had to learn to after what I’ve experienced._

_I’m wondering if maybe it will be YOU stating “this bitch is crazy…” after you read this letter, ha!_

_I can’t help but smile, even through it all, at the fact that you can do this to me. Make me want to willingly share my happy. My odd. My tragic and my sad._

_Share me, with you._

_It seems as though you have the same magic, because it has been just as easy for me, to give you a look inside my world, as it has been for you._

_All except this one. This letter is a little harder. A little scarier to have it out in the open._

_Still enjoying the minefield, N?_

_Until next time,_

_W x “_

Waverly gulped at her whiskey as she reread her confessions. Why on earth was she so willing to share something that no one outside of her family was aware of, with someone she didn’t even know?

She sighed as she thought. Waverly did know her. Her instinct was telling her that she was getting to know this red headed woman better than anyone possibly knew her. She could say the same for herself. She had confessed to the woman across the border, more than she had ever shared with anyone. Waverly no longer felt as though she was talking solely to the void. She was willing to share the most intimate details about her life with someone miles and miles away. 

Before she lost her nerve, she sealed the neatly folded paper in the envelope and left it on the desk, ready to post in a few hours on her way to work.

Waverly was due back in Buffalo at the beginning of the week after next. It had been playing on her mind whether to mention it or not. It was work related and it was only for practically half of one day, the first half of the morning taken up with her meeting. Her instinct was telling her to keep it to herself for now. They may never cross paths except for on paper. Waverly was still okay with that.

“You can let yourself out, Champ.” Waverly said quietly from the corner as she stood from the desk at the sound of the heaving boots on the stairs.

“Thanks babe, got work soon. Meet up next week?” He asked with a devilish grin.

“Mm. No, actually. I’ll be out of town. Call you when I get back?” Waverly offered, not really that enthusiastic.

“Sure, sure, whatever you want.” Champ shrugged on his jacket and opened the front door.

“Was fun, thanks.” He shut the door and walked in to the rising dawn.

Waverly wouldn’t bother with sleep, her alarm would go off within the hour, anyway. She dragged her sorry ass to the shower and let the thoughts of her latest letter consume her. Willa in the barn, her own tiny frame trying so hard to jump up and cut the stupid fucking rope. Screaming so loud Wynonna found her, grabbing the ladder and doing it herself. All too little, too late. Death was an asshole sometimes, but at other times, such the case with Ward, death could be welcome.

She calmed herself as she thought of pale skin, brown, kind eyes, auburn hair and a solitary life lived with quiet purpose. Could you miss someone you had never met?

Waverly was beginning to think so…


	4. Auburn Hair in the Sun...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole wondered, if when she threw herself at the void those many months ago, if the Universe had placed in front of her, exactly what she needed to bring her back to the waking world. Metaphorically speaking, if W had grabbed at her hand and said “walk with me, Nicole…” she was beginning to really wonder if she would say no.

**Two months previous:**

Auburn hair in the Sun, Nicole sat with her back up against the stone, taking a deep breath and watching as the leaves fell and slowly piled around her feet. She loved this time of year leading up to the frosty winter that was soon to come. She stood and turned, backing away from her sitting place as she raised the camera.

Quick shots in succession, the tall woman was hoping to capture the essence of the falling, orange and yellow leaves draped against the lichen green discolouration of the exaggerated headstone piece. A cloaked woman, right hand reaching towards the sky as she gazed upward, waiting for what Nicole assumed to be the heavens, to open up and grant her access. She stood against a white marble background. The stone woman was hauntingly beautiful. Her soft, carved features always reminded Nicole of her mother, taken too soon and too quickly to give the red head the chance to say farewell.

Nicole had accepted saying goodbye to a box being lowered in to the ground. Now. Back then, she was barely 11, trying to learn how to live in a world where her mother and father no longer existed. She didn’t accept anything. 

The fire was quick, their house tiny. It didn’t take very long at all. The neighbour from over the road had managed to drag Nicole from the hot, smokey house gagging and inhaling sharply, vomiting shortly after. Her mum and dad weren’t so lucky. She had later learned that it was an electrical fault from their hot water service. It had shorted late in the darkened night and started the blaze.

_“You are unique, Nic baby. As unique as a snowflake and I know you’re going to influence the way people see things. See you. See the world. They’re going to love you just as much as we do…”_

Nicole stopped as her fathers words danced through her head. She had found herself lowering the camera and rubbing at the patch of skin between thumb and index finger as she stared at the haunting beauty, eventually taking her eyes away to look at the snowflake tattoo placed upon her hand.

“As unique as a snowflake…” she whispered to herself.

Nicole had stolen her first camera. As a rebellious 14 year old in already her third Foster home, her fathers words just wouldn’t leave her alone. She wanted to influence the way people saw things. She wanted to change the way people saw the world. Nicole wanted her parents back. She did everything she could to capture what she could see, what she could feel.

Six years, five foster homes and a lot of emotional scars later, Nicole had pulled herself from the system. The red head was tired of the homes. Tired of the ignorant, abusive, addicted human beings that called themselves “Foster Carers.” Always at the start they were picture perfect. Always at the start Nicole was naïve enough to trust that this time, _this_ family would be different.

The façade would drop not long after she would settle in, forcing the young teenager to once again realise that she couldn’t trust anyone. Couldn’t love anyone. They all lied, or left, or just didn’t show up at all. Once again Nicole Haught ached for her parents.

Out on her own at 17, she got herself a job washing dishes behind a dingy Strip Club most nights of the week. After her shifts, as dawn encroached across the brick jungle, Nicole would take to the quiet of the parks, the cemeteries and the lawns and lay about, decompressing. Out would come her camera and away she would go, lost in all thought and focusing solely on the lens. Looking for the lost spark.

The squark of the crow above her, brought her back to herself. Ever since she had read and reread W’s last letter, she had been thinking about her parents a lot. She felt as though that’s why she was drawn to the haunting beauty that day. Nicole needed to photograph her, to capture the thoughts swirling around her head.

Oh how her heart ached for the woman that had described herself as small but mighty, wavy haired and hazel eyed. She had shared something so personal and private, so damaging, that Nicole couldn’t help but feel gratitude that she was the one W chose to share it with. 

Nicole would tell her of her past, she knew as much. She somehow felt tethered to the woman with the mailbox even more so now than before. They had both suffered tragedy and loss, both profoundly. Grief beyond words. Uncannily enough, they had both decided that disconnection and limited interaction with others, was the best way to deal with that. 

Nicole wondered, if when she threw herself at the void those many months ago, if the Universe had placed in front of her, exactly what she needed to bring her back to the waking world. Metaphorically speaking, if W had grabbed at her hand and said “walk with me, Nicole…” she was beginning to really wonder if she would say no.

Nicole shook her head as she brought the camera back towards her eye line, snapping away as the leaves fluttered effortlessly around the haunting beauty. Golden yellow, ember red against mottled lichen green. The Photographer new exactly why this shot would never be developed in grey scale. She looked away and down.

She found it. Her dimples flashed as the wide grin spread across her soft features.

She found it.

Shoot time was done, there was no need for any more.

……..

_“I think I’ve done pretty well, so far. I have managed to wander through the field without stepping on any mines and losing a limb or two…_

_Notice I am also replying to you. Somehow you haven’t managed to scare me away, either. I would say everything is coming up roses for you right now, except you mentioned no enjoyment with the man-child._

_Maybe, if you’re sitting with whiskey wondering how you got to where you are with that particular situation, it’s time to really look at said situation? I suspect he clearly has no idea what it is he is taking for granted…yes, I am shaking my head._

_On a more serious note, I cannot even begin to express my gratitude towards you, W. For me to be that person you felt like you could share such a major part of your history and your life with._

_I’ve never been_ that person _for anyone. To be completely honest, I’ve never wanted to be._

_Is it too much to say I’m glad I was, for you?_

_I had to take a deep breath after I wrote those words. An extremely deep breath._

_I sometimes imagine that you walk your path alone, through the enormous fields and I walk mine. We can see each other off in the distance, tiny specks heading in the same direction._

_You wave, I wave enthusiastically and you call out. I can barely hear you, but I know you’ve called out all the same. We walk parallel, never meeting but heading forward, always in the same direction, these tiny specks that we are._

_Does that sound stupid? It sounds stupid, doesn’t it?_

_Right…so I’ve just put down my beer. No more of that whilst I write to you (yes, I’m smiling, weirdly enough.)_

_I took a shot today. An image that sits so profoundly with me, W. After I read your letter. Reread it again before I fell to sleep and read it for a third time, this morning._

_^^^ See that? Lord! I swear I’ve put my beer down, to stop this nonsense from coming out, ha!_

_Anyway…I found that I had to do this. It called to me so loudly, after absorbing what must have been just the worst for you. I can imagine it all still would be to a point._

_My own trauma called and I couldn’t put it in to words to you. Not yet. So my mind screamed at me to capture it, instead. And I did W, I did._

_All yellow and amber and deep red. Green and stone and haunting beauty. It’s there, coming through underneath my fingertips, the thoughts in my mind being developed as I watch through the liquid._

_I feel as though I should ask for forgiveness for saying this in case it’s too far, but I want to say it anyway._

_You inspired the beauty of this image W, while I stood in the background and inspired the pain._

_It’s soft, it’s quiet. It’s painful and moving. It’s haunting and beautiful and I took inspiration from the tiny speck in the field, waving at me to say that she exists in this time and place, too._

_So thank you, W. Thank you for choosing me. Thank you for sharing yourself with my quiet, hidden mind. Most of all, thank you for allowing me the time and space to share myself in a different way, whilst we walk the fields parallel, maybe never meeting, but always taking note of the shared journey._

_N x “_

……..

Nicole slipped the cream envelope in to the metal box. Now to wait. Sometimes one week, sometimes a little longer depending on the amount of post going through the area. It had become the worst part for the Photographer, waiting for the reply to follow, if one came at all. Every letter sent, Nicole was letting more and more escape her when she never meant to. The woman just couldn’t bring herself to throw it out and start again when she did so. As if the mystery woman across the border had to know exactly what went through her mind.

“Stop drinking when you write to her, idiot.” Nicole scalded herself as she trudged through the stiffness of the wind, on her way to John Henry.

……..

“These shots Miss Haught. They’re…different.” John Henry drawled as he drew on the lit cigar, eyeing her intently.

“Different good? Different bad?” Nicole asked, eyebrows rising in interest.

“I am inclined to say, different good. And you’re art is already mighty fine, Nicole, so I am for all intents and purposes…blown away.” Holliday leant back in his chair and smiled widely.

“But something tells me you are holding back?” He enquired in his thick accent.

“What makes you say that?” Nicole’s eyes darted to the floor as she was unable to meet the moustached mans across the desk.

“Miss Haught there is beauty in your work. There always has been. A quiet confidence and execution of style the likes of which I have never seen. You capture the stuff that makes people think. Makes people…appreciate what they cherish most in this world.” John Henry sat forward as his features softened.

“But these images are a mixture of different feelings within you. I can see it. Even the headstone shots, the quiet silence of the birds in mid air…you’ve incorporated more colour, more depth when you’ve developed them. You feel different. And I can tell these aren’t all of your shots.” John took a drag as he continued to stare.

Nicole stumbled slightly as she went to respond. What was she meant to say? That some mysterious, faceless woman miles and miles away had begun to light something within her? Could inspire Nicole without ever having met her? Could open the possibility that alone may not be the end game any more?

Her mouth opened and nothing came out. She tried again and still sat in silence. Nicole’s brow began to crease in the centre as she closed her mouth again and decided to just sit. John Henry chuckled quietly.

“Miss Haught, whatever it is, you do not need to share it with me for I am not your Keeper. Just…whatever it is, it’s good. These…these are good, darlin’. And I’m sure the one you’re holding back is just as splendid.” He smiled at her again from beneath the thick moustache.

“Sometimes it irritates me that you read me better than I read myself.” Nicole said exasperated.

“Put it down to a nasty poker habit. One that your checks help fund. Let’s put that aside for now. They want you in Manhattan month after next and –“

“- no.” The Photographer interjected.

“You know my feelings on this stuff, Holliday. They can show my work but I’m not interested in traipsing around sucking up to people. The world can be fake enough without subjecting myself to evenings filled with fake laughter and conversations.” Nicole slumped in the seat as she turned her head towards the window.

“They all think you pull these stunts to get more notoriety, you know that, right?” John Henry replied.

“Stunts. Mm. Stunts…” Nicole let the words fall from her mouth quietly.

“There are no stunts, Holliday. Don’t piss me off about this, you should know better. Notoriety, popularity, fame. Those things mean nothing to me, you have always known that.” Nicole was beginning to fume. 

Holliday took notice and sat more upright, clearing his throat.

“I apologise Nicole, my words didn’t mean to offend. Just…would you consider that, perhaps if not Manhattan then another showing further over in Boston? I have that one scheduled for three months from now.” The southern man pleaded with the red head with his eyes.

Nicole sat and contemplated. The fact that she couldn’t remember the last time she had attended an event in her honour spoke volumes. Oh how she disliked them. 

She sighed heavily as she heard the inner voice telling her that she couldn’t have it both ways. Nicole couldn’t want to share her work with the world but to an extent, refuse to share herself. That wasn’t balance and if she kept it up, the Universe would find a way of balancing it out for her. Best she arrange something while she still had control over the situation.

“I do have another image. So…here’s the deal. No one sees it before Manhattan. I will make a short appearance at the Gala on the night you release it. Short, Holliday. Short.” Nicole stood to leave, taking her jacket off the back of the chair.

“Excellent Nicole! Excellent if I do say so myself!” John Henry clapped his hands together.

“I will let them know immediately that not only will you attend, you will have a new image to unveil.” His smile widened as he walked her to do the door.

“Email me the information of when, I will be there. I’ll have the image couriered over to you the week before. No one sees it except for you, okay?” Nicole reminded him.

“No one. You have my word, Miss Haught. Good day to you.” Holliday farewelled the Photographer as she made her way downstairs and out in to the cool afternoon.

……..

Just as she was about to order her coffee, the phone trilled in her jacket pocket. Nicole stared at the screen as she contemplated answering. 

“Shae.” Nicole said quietly down the line with a small smile.

“Nic. I haven’t seen you in a while.” Shae volleyed back, just as quietly.

“Hang on – regular black, one sugar, thank you. Sorry, needed to order and I know, I’ve been otherwise occupied lately.” Nicole replied all at once.

“Mmm. Not with someone else, I hope?” Shae questioned seductively as her tone of voice went slightly higher.

Well. What was it, exactly? Nicole thought to herself as she stood there. Technically she _had_ been keeping herself occupied with someone else, albeit mentally and not physically but it was somewhat true. The red head hadn’t realised that W had taken up that much space within her, that she hadn’t felt the need or inclination to contact Shae. 

Shae. The woman who kept her company in her bed on a fairly steady basis. The woman who in the quiet of the twilight hours had let her photograph her silken skin in the moonlight, let her touch and taste and feel. All the while allowing no strings to be attached, allowing Nicole no connection to her if she didn’t seek it. The perfect arrangement.

“Earth to Nicole?” Shaes liquid silk voice came down the line at the Photographer.

“Shit. Sorry. I was lost in…well lost in something I guess.” Nicole grabbed and paid for her coffee as she trekked back out in to the weather.

“I want to see you, if you want to see me?” The woman across town asked.

Before Nicole realised that she was responding, the answer was out of her mouth and down the phone line.

“Sure. My place in an hour?”

“Deal. See you soon Nic.” Shae ended the call as Nicole stood in the cooling weather, wondering why she had just invited her over.

……..

This was no longer the perfect arrangement.

As the tall woman splashed cold water over her face at the basin a few hours later, she looked up to stare at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

“What are you doing, Haught?” She whispered to herself.

“You’re attaching yourself to a ghost. You know that, right?” She asked her red haired reflection. 

“You’ve never met her, Haught. Knock it off.” She shook her head at herself as she took her thoughts back to the dark skinned woman in her bed, on the other side of the door.

As Shae ran her hands over the pale skin of Nicole’s back. As Nicole turned her and took over, entering her time and again. As the Photographer made her pant, moan and cry out for more as she worked her with her mouth and her hands, all she could think about was the fucking woman in the lines of the letters.

She tried so hard to block her out, the self proclaimed wavy haired, small but mighty person miles and miles away from her. Nicole tried hard not to imagine her beneath her body. Not to imagine touching her so intimately and bringing forth the same sounds she could elicit from Shae.

Once the thoughts of W touching Nicoles body in such a way surfaced, she had to be done. Even splashing cold water on herself was a miserable attempt at distraction. Her little pep talk to herself fared no better.

Nicole exited the bathroom to Shae quietly standing as she had finished dressing herself.

“This should probably cease, now.” She looked to Nicole, hurt in her dark eyes but clear in her meaning.

“It’s one thing, Nic, to never let me touch you, the way you touch me. That’s your choice and it’s a choice I respect, no matter how much I want to. But you’ve never not been here.” Shae walked towards her as she closed the gap between them.

As her warm hand cupped the side of the Photographers face, they matched stares. Nicole remained silent.

“I don’t know where you went, and I don’t know who she is but it means we can’t do this any longer.” A half sweet smile of understanding crossed Shaes lips as she looked away.

“You’re always a little distant Nic. Always. And I get that, you don’t want anything other than what this is. But you were completely gone and that, I can’t do.” Shae kissed her softly on the lips as she squeezed the side of her neck.

Nicole continued to remain silent. She grabbed at the silken skin of Shaes hand as she walked away, squeezing it gently. It was all she had to give her. She felt horrible but she gave what she could, in the moment that was given to them.

“Take care of yourself Nicole. Whoever she is, she has you already. In a way I never did.” 

Shae quietly closed the front door as she left, leaving Nicole standing in the gloom of the hall, astounded at her last words. 

Nicole tried, she tried really, really hard not to.

But she smiled. Quietly to herself. In the gloom. 

Maybe W did already have her…

She smiled.


	5. She was a Little bit in Love With her...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “For what it’s worth, crossing a line isn’t _always_ a bad thing. In certain situations, crossing it is the only option, for growth. When you’re presented with a choice to accept the side you’re on or step over into something new…your heart will tell you almost immediately what choice to make.” He smiled awkwardly as he exited the room, leaving Waverly alone with her mind.
> 
> She hated that he was right.

**One and a half months previous:**

She was a little bit in love with her. Waverly was sure of it.

The words had circled her for a week. Constantly replaying themselves in her mind as she worked, as she showered. When she woke.

_“I suspect he clearly has no idea what it is he is taking for granted…”_

_“You inspired the beauty of this image, W, while I stood in the background and inspired the pain.”_

N’s words of fields and symmetry and walking parallel, sharing experiences and waving to each other without ever meeting. It was like poetry dripped from her paper without her ever having to try and create it.

Waverly couldn’t believe N had questioned herself and thought of it as stupid. It spoke to the small woman on such an intimate, personal level that the last thing she thought it was, was stupid.

She found herself grinning at the thought of the possibility of inspiring _anything_ in another person, let alone imagery. Art. Something someone else could see. Something someone could study and think over and process. How incredible.

“I’m not a little bit in love with her. Just…in awe. Awe. That’s it.” Waverly mentioned quietly to herself as she poured the amber fluid in to the glass in front of her, trying to convince her mind.

The tiny woman couldn’t help but wonder what could have happened if she had told the New Yorker she was in Buffalo the few weeks previous. Would she have asked to meet? Would Waverly had said yes? She didn’t think so just yet. Maybe the pair of them would continue walking parallel in the wide, open fields. As N had mentioned, always aware of each other, always acknowledging the journey and the distance but never meeting to cross paths any further. 

“Argh I can’t get her words out of my damn head!” Waverly spoke to herself sternly, slamming the whiskey on the desk a little harder than she would have liked.

The mystery woman’s words and the constant thought of the image Waverly had apparently inspired. It was driving her crazy. Her body hummed in an entirely different way and had been doing so for the past week.

“Ah, sorry. Sorry to interrupt but ah…I was told to, to give these to, to you.” The intern stuttered behind her, jarring the small woman instantly from her thoughts.

“Shit!” Waverly turned quickly.

“Jesus you scared me! Sorry! I mean, ah…sorry if you, if you heard me talking to myself. Habit. Bad one, but there none the less. Thank you. Um do you want a drink? Sorry again.” Waverly stopped talking and put her hand up to her mouth, closing her eyes to take a breath.

“Hang on.” She held her hand up towards the small, awkward man.

“Okay, start again. Waverly. You can leave those there and would you like a drink? I’ve finished for the day and am winding down, please don’t take this as I drink on the job.” Waverly extended her hand toward the nervous man in front of her.

“Ah, Jeremy. Nice to me – meet you. I should probably take that drink.” He smiled sheepishly.

“You sound like you need it.” Waverly replied with a smile.

“You sound like maybe, maybe you’re stuck in a, ah…a loop. With your thoughts I mean.” Jeremy ventured forth with his nervous enquiry.

“Jeremy, right? I see you stare at me. You stare a lot. I’m not that scary or that terrible. Are you always this nervous or just with me?” Waverly fired right back at him, trying to change the subject.

Jeremy opened his mouth and apparently silence was the only thing that was going to come out of it. Waverly smiled warmly and held her hand up again.

“I apologise, that was probably rude. Just know that if you want to come and say hey, you can. I’m not scary.” Waverly said calmly.

What the hell? She thought to herself for a moment as she took a sip of her drink. Waverly was never this approachable with people. Ever. She was more than happy for others to keep their distance. If there were fewer interactions, the fewer of other peoples problems, feelings or thoughts she had to take on board. Waverly swore she was beginning to feel something within her shift.

“Nonsense.” Waverly said aloud.

“What is?” Jeremy replied.

“Damnit! Sorry. I didn’t realise I had said that aloud. Like I said, bad habit.” Waverly volleyed back with a nervous giggle of her own.

“So, this loop?” Jeremy questioned her again. He wasn’t letting it slip away from him, so it seemed.

“No loop, just stuck in a moment I guess. Trying to pick it apart but not having much luck.” Waverly answered back cryptically.

“Is it possible to pick apart, or are you just assuming you can?” Jeremy countered back, just as cryptic as he took a drink.

He hissed as it slid down his throat, leaving the burn trailing behind it.

Waverly stood and thought. What was it exactly that she was trying to pick at? Her own feelings? Or what she assumed N was beginning to feel? Was she trying to read between the lines because there was something there to read, or did she just _want_ there to be?

“Urgh.” Waverly muttered.

“Did I help, or hinder?” Jeremy asked with a nervous giggle.

“Maybe a little of both. I think maybe I might feel a certain way and because of that, I’m reading too much in to how someone else may feel. Does that make sense? Jesus I don’t even think I’m making sense. Balls…” Waverly walked to the other side of the room to look out over the evening traffic below.

“It, it makes sense, don’t worry. When you have feelings it’s, it’s natural to want them reciprocated. It’s a little scary if they’re not, I guess?” Jeremys pitch rose at the end, as if he himself wasn’t too sure on how to answer her.

“Jesus…” Waverly whispered to her reflection.

Not having them reciprocated wasn’t scary.

No. What was scary was _having_ them in the first place. Waverly had not meant for that to eventuate.

“It’s incredibly scary to _have_ feelings at all, Jeremy. I wouldn’t even begin to know what to do if they were reciprocated. This is such a risky line to cross…” Waverly gulped the rest of her whiskey like it was water, moving towards the desk for another.

The small woman waved the bottle in front of the darker toned, nervous man and he took a refill. He hissed again as the liquid travelled down his throat, beginning its journey to his bloodstream.

“Do you want them to be reciprocated? Does it excite you? The, the thought of it I, I mean.” Jeremy stuttered, afraid that he had overstepped in asking something so personal.

“Nope. This conversation is over. I’ve shared too much as it is. What are these?” Waverly abruptly changed the subject as she pointed down to the papers Jeremy had placed on her desk.

Jeremy registered that he was beat for the time being. 

“Ah, schedules and maintenance runs for the new exhibit. They said to give them to you for your Report? Or something?” Jeremy shook his head as he tried to maintain his composure.

“You seriously need to get those nerves under control, Jeremy. What is making you so…” Waverly giggled quietly again as she shook her head gently. He was sweet in his awkwardness.

“Just ah…just want to impress the boss. The lowly intern, you know…trying to make sure the Curator doesn’t fire his ass when he’s only worked here for five minutes.” The small man laughed shakily as he looked away.

“Look, he’s not that scary either, Jeremy. You will be fine so long as you do as you’re asked, like we all do. I sense that this is where you want to be. If so, it will work out. Remain calm, drink whiskey and… well we’ll probably stay away from the caffeinated beverages with you.” Waverly laughed.

The wavy haired woman actually found herself wholeheartedly laughing along with the man in front of her. The moment was immensely enjoyable for her. Waverly basked in the feeling for a beat before she moved around the desk to take the paperwork.

“That will be all for now, thanks Jeremy.” Waverly said with a smile as she watched him put his glass down and nod.

As he walked towards the door, he stood a little more upright as he looked back at Waverly and spoke.

“For what it’s worth, crossing a line isn’t _always_ a bad thing. In certain situations, crossing it is the only option, for growth. When you’re presented with a choice to accept the side you’re on or step over into something new…your heart will tell you almost immediately what choice to make.” He smiled awkwardly as he exited the room, leaving Waverly alone with her mind.

She hated that he was right.

All week her mind had been repeating N’s words. They danced around her head and looped and swirled, intertwining themselves with her deepest parts. Pushing against her walls and cracking them, expanding them millimetre by millimetre all the while Waverly was fighting internally to keep it from happening and she was failing.

Waverly Earp could hate that Jeremy was right, all she wanted but what she couldn’t do, was find hate within herself for wanting to step over that line. No matter how hard she was trying.

“Damnit.” She said quietly. 

“Damnit.” She said again as the grin crept across her lips.

Waverly sat and wrote.

……..

_“N, it’s more peaceful here in the evening. The doors have closed. I can finally leave my own open. My phone has stopped ringing incessantly and I find that I can untangle my thoughts from the day and just…be._

_As I untangle them, though, the only thing I seem to be able to pull from it all is your words. I try to concentrate on so many other things. I HAVE so many other things to concentrate on yet here I am, thinking of all the ways I cannot get you out of my head…_

_Was that too much? It was too much. Son of a bitch!_

_I think, like you, I should steer clear of the booze when I write. Whiskey can make for having to apologise the next day, sometimes. Ha!_

_It is nice though N, to have thoughts of other things. Things that aren’t family related. The ones that keep you up at night and make you sweat. Make you pace the room and search yourself for some reason behind why they won’t leave you alone._

_They happen less and less, those thoughts and dreams. Nightmares. Thoughts revolving around you seem to happen more and more…_

_Okay…enough with the whiskey and the writing or I’m going to find myself in trouble._

_Again, I could just throw this out. Scrunch. In the bin. Done. Start again. And you would never know. I could do that, and stop myself from teetering on the edge of being completely inappropriate with these things that I write down for you but I just can’t seem to stop myself. What is it, I wonder? It happens to you too, doesn’t it?_

_Why am I so compelled to leave everything I say as it is? Everything I think comes to be on the paper and I just…leave it for you. Simply left, for you to read and interpret how you will. This is ridiculous. It’s incredible and ridiculous all at once. The situation is balls, wouldn’t you say?_

_Oh my God I need to stop. I’m rambling. I have moments where I do that in person. I never realised it would transfer to ink and paper. Ha!_

_You’ve got me completely enthralled by the fact that you said I helped inspire your work. I cannot stop thinking about it. I am trying to, believe me._

_I can’t stop thinking about you believing that you inspired the pain, or how much I find myself wanting to help you ease it._

_I read your words over again and I can’t help but imagine the thoughts in your head coming to life underneath your fingertips as you say. To think I inspired such images or ideas within you…is it possible to think someone you have never met is completely incredible? I believe it is, now._

_I think you’re completely incredible N, just know that. Pretty simple._

_Pretty complicated all at the same time._

_I would like to think that through our correspondence, I am getting to know the quiet, hidden mind that lives within you. All it makes me want to do is know more…_

_Waiting for your beautiful loops and swirls to return to me on paper is becoming harder and harder._

_Is this too much? I wonder…_

_W x “_

……..

Waverly sat back with a fresh glass of amber, as she went over what she had written to the auburn haired woman. She told herself she would read it only once, then fold it and seal it away, lest she over analyse and punish herself for her forthrightness. The voice within her told her to send it, don’t question it.

Waverly was scared. She was cryptically admitting she had feelings. Out in to the world, to another person. Shit. 

She did. Waverly had feelings. Never meeting N didn’t matter to her any longer. The thoughts they shared with each other on paper, the connection that had developed over the many months. Waverly could no longer deny the internal pull she felt towards the other woman and how the more she thought about it, the more she wanted nothing more than to be in the Photographers presence.

“Shit.” Waverly said aloud.

This had crossed her beaten path.

As she gathered her things and headed downstairs towards the exit, she passed Jeremy at his desk going through his schedule for the next day.

“Thank you, Jeremy.” She startled him as he looked up quickly, reading her eyes and understanding.

“Glad I could help you make your choice.” He smiled awkwardly and held up his hand in a half wave of farewell for the evening.

“I’ll avoid coffee for you in the morning, but not for myself. Anything in particular?” Waverly said with a warm smile.

“Ah, just tea. Plain old tea would be wonderful.” Jeremy beamed at the prospect of making a new friend.

“Tea it is, Jeremy. Goodnight.” She waved as she exited the building.

Waverly couldn’t help but smile at the thought that she may have just made a new connection with someone and it felt…nice. Warm. Inviting. 

“Jesus N, what the hell are you doing to me…” The wavy haired woman whispered to herself, continuing to let the smile play on her lips as she made her way to the mailbox.

She was becoming invested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys... I’m reading all of your comments, I promise! I’m blown away by the response to this little fic so far. Something that started out as a tiny hint of an idea, has carried me away in to an entirely different kind of WE world. One in which I am loving spending some time.
> 
> Thank you all for your beautiful words, I am always in awe of fic readers and writers alike 💖 
> 
> You can always find me on Tumblr @iheartintelligence or Insta @too_damn_haught 👏🏼


	6. Words Have Failed me...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh my God it was bad. It was bad, wasn’t it? Is that why you’re leaving? Are you upset and you’re leaving for the day? Jesus what did she say to you?!” Jeremy rushed over to the smaller woman just as she reached the turnstile.

**One month previous:**

_“Words have failed me for a few days now, W. I have read your last letter so many times I believe I am beginning to wear the paper away. Is that tragic or…?_

_Anyway._

_Anyway._

_Tragic I guess is the smell of smoke. When you wake to the smell of smoke and before you know it, your bare feet are carrying you down the cold hall, in search of the flames you are sure are waiting for you, just around the corner. Just in the next room. But nothing. It always leads to nothing. Quiet. Leads to dark. Leads to nothing._

_Should I apologise in advance that I’ve had a little too much to drink before writing to you? I feel as though I need the liquid courage right now but maybe there isn’t enough beer in the world to tell someone about your dark._

_W, it means…I can’t seem to express it right now but it means…_

_Something special that you want to help ease the pressure I walk around with inside. The anguish that can sometimes make its presence known. Please know that when I find the right words, I will speak them._

_How does one come to terms with walking away from flames when others haven’t? Significant others, that you miss more than anything in the world and can never have them return?_

_You studied, W. Educated yourself on the very thing that took those people from you. Turned it into your life’s work. You are coping. You are soaring. You are conquering._

_I take pictures instead. I’ve spent my life trying to capture emotions in others and feelings of other places. Emotions and moments that I was either incapable of feeling, or had pushed that far down, I no longer recognised what they were._

_I see the world through a lens. That’s how I cope. It’s how I soar and it’s how I conquer. I own what I capture. For a fleeting moment it happens. Fleeting. But I have the power to capture it forever. Save it. Bookmark it. Reflect on it, whenever I want._

_What I had was taken away too suddenly for my comprehension, so now I capture those thoughts and those feelings and they are never taken away. They are imagined, dreamt in to reality through my lens. Developed and tweaked to come to life beneath my hands and once printed, are forever._

_If we and those we love cannot be forever, I can at least try to create something out in the world that is, for others to enjoy, think on and question._

_You asked if this was too much, W. Your thoughts and how I tangle through them but is this too much for YOU, I wonder? ^^^_

_Words have failed me until now because the reality is, I am intrigued that I tangle through your thoughts just as you do, in mine. And if that is so, then you should know the above. But you already do. You know of loss and heartache. You know of grief._

_And I feel as though I know you._

_Your waiting, is my waiting. It kills a little more each time, sending my envelope off in to the void, waiting only for one to be returned. Each time it is, I feel a little more at ease with the world. At ease with you and at peace with myself._

_Connected to you._

_I find immense comfort in the knowledge that the nightmares that visit you, are becoming less frequent and less of a burden. The ego in me is a little happy that those terrible thoughts are being replaced by the less terrible thoughts of me…_

_This smile is completely your fault._

_Would it make you smile too, if I confessed that you take up large space in my thoughts? You told me I was incredible._

_Incredible._

_How can you not take up space in my thoughts?_

_We are still walking the fields together, although I feel you are a little closer to me, like I could make out the words you call to me if I tried._

_I can see you a little clearer, W. You are small but my word, you do stand mighty. For all that you have accomplished, conquered and worked hard to transform within yourself, you are the mightiest of us all, I have no doubt._

_N xxx_

_Note to myself: When you have less of a beer head and you read this tomorrow, SEND IT x “_

……..

Nicole woke in her armchair, the smell of chemical had enveloped her. As the red head sat forward she grimaced as the lightning pain began in her temple, reaching back to remind the rear of her skull the consequences of too much beer, not enough water and sleeping awkwardly.

“Definitely not enough water, Haught.” She scalded herself as she stood, noticing the letter beside her on the small table.

“Shower first.” Nicole said to herself as she headed for the bathroom.

She stood and let the warm water hit the back of her neck, releasing the tension from having fallen asleep in her chair. The tall woman could already feel the headache subsiding, reminding herself that she may have drunk quite an amount the night before, but nowhere near enough to warrant the ache when she awoke. She definitely needed to stop falling asleep in that damn chair.

Showered, coffee made and clothes put on, the Photographer returned to her darkroom and picked up her latest letter. She recalled the words she had penned the night before. Well…some of them. 

As she reread, she could see why she needed the liquid courage. Voicing her dark and her tragic without going in to too much detail, yet it was there on the paper, for W to discover should she send it her way. Nicole hesitated.

She had never let that part of herself out in words. Nicole had never felt like she wanted to, until now. Sharing the burden had never seemed like a choice or even a need and now it did. Didn’t it?

“When you have less of a beer head and you read this tomorrow, SEND IT…”

Nicole stared at the words as she said them aloud.

“Wow…I actually fucking wrote it.” She gently smacked her palm against her forehead as she scrunched her eyes shut, cringing at her awkwardness.

As her face relaxed, she smiled quietly. 

“Just do as you say and send it, idiot. If it’s out in the world and it’s too much, you won’t get a reply. Simple.” Nicole folded the paper and sealed it in the cream envelope.

The pit of her stomach dropped at the thought of the woman across the border not replying. Seeing deeper inside of her and turning it away, fearing the weight and gravity of Nicole’s past. Vanishing from her orbit just like the rest.

It was no longer simple at all, the way she felt. W seemed to agree in her letter. Nicole shook away the feeling in her stomach.

“Jesus you’re really in this, Haught. And for the love of GOD stop talking to yourself.” She laughed quietly.

Head down against the wind, Nicole headed for the mailbox on her way to see her friend Bobo. She felt compelled to tell him of this far out, weird as fuck, incredible situation.

Incredible. Nicole was reminded again that W had called her incredible. 

Every one of the smiles the Photographer had let pass over her lips lately were indeed, the mystery woman’s fault. 

……..

**Two and a half weeks previous:**

“Oh my God did you get a letter?!” Jeremy asked the small woman, excited beyond belief.

Waverly laughed as she looked towards him and winked. She still couldn’t believe how quickly the pair had connected over the last few weeks.

Whilst she never disclosed the personal nature of the words to the dark skinned man, Waverly had spoken of the out – of – this – world connection she felt with the mysterious Photographer, through their exchanges of paper and ink.

Jeremy sat listening, completely enthralled as Waverly recounted how it had all begun, in the unique little book shop, all of those months ago. How she had felt when she received the first correspondence and how the connection had become stronger and stronger, the more they conversed and shared with each other. How easy it seemed to be, to share almost anything with the auburn haired woman. Everything, in fact. 

Captivated, he wanted to know as much as he could, what she looked like, how Waverly imagined her to be. Everything. Waverly would only disclose so much. Jeremy respected the boundary. It still didn’t stop him asking every single day when she arrived at work, if an envelope had appeared in her mailbox. Today, he was in luck.

She waved the envelope towards him as she made her way up to her office on the next floor.

“I know you won’t tell me what it says but I feel like dancing a little with excitement that she wrote back!” Jeremy called after her, laughing.

Waverly laughed a little too, finding herself walking a little quicker to get to her office, N’s words waiting patiently for her on the paper between her fingers…

She read. 

Waverly read it again.

Waverly read through it a third time.

The woman found that tears had begun to wet the bottom of N’s heartbreakingly beautiful letter. The letter to her, just her. The saddest words that Waverly had no doubt, just like her own, had never been spoken about to anyone else. How privileged she felt. How beautiful this woman was. Waverly was awestruck. 

She traced the words with her fingertips, gliding over them as she felt her heart break for the alabaster toned woman across the border. Of course she understood why she was on her own. It all stemmed from the exact same reasons Waverly chose to stay away from the wider world. Sometimes, other peoples emotions and feelings were too much when you already didn’t know what you were supposed to do with your own. Especially when they just left or were taken away from you, anyway.

As she wiped away the tears all she could think about was the fact that they had somehow found each other. Through phenomenal odds, the Universe had answered both of them when they called. And that had to mean something. Didn’t it?

Each letter, Waverly had to remind herself that it was okay to send it. Don’t overthink it, just send it. Simple. N clearly had the same issue, as Waverly ran her fingers over the small note the woman had written to herself at the end of the page. It was adorable, it was incredibly honest and it was left there because just like Waverly, N felt the overwhelming urge to tell her everything. Leave everything as it came out. As it eventuated. Waverly could tell.

She smiled as she sipped her coffee. N had replied. Waverly admitting, albeit cryptically, that she had N wrapped through her mind hadn’t scared the other woman off. In fact it had encouraged the Photographer to admit that the same thing was taking place within her own being, more and more. 

In that moment, work was not where she wanted to be. She wanted to be outside, in the freshness of the nature around her. Somewhere other than the office that currently made her feel stifled. She needed to breathe. Waverly needed to write.

She called through to the Curator, updating him on his two meetings and press schedule for the day. She advised she was taking the rest of the day off, everything else was up to date and she would return in the morning.

“Bye Jeremy.” She waved as she made her way to the front door.

“Oh my God it was bad. It was bad, wasn’t it? Is that why you’re leaving? Are you upset and you’re leaving for the day? Jesus what did she say to you?!” Jeremy rushed over to the smaller woman just as she reached the turnstile.

“Relax, jitterbug! It’s not bad, it’s good! I just need to be…somewhere else.” Waverly smiled. Jesus she couldn’t stop.

“Oooooh it’s THAT kind of good…. Yeah, yeah okay I get it.” Jeremy over exaggerated the wink.

“Oh Jesus Jeremy no! Not like that! Get your mind out of the gutter! I just need to be outside. And I’m here early enough and late enough at night to warrant a day to do so.” Waverly tapped him on the shoulder as she said farewell.

……..

_“So I’m sitting in the Labyrinth Garden, having to walk away from work after reading your words._

_Your beautiful, beautiful words._

_I remember you saying to me that you felt privileged that I had chosen you to share my sad and my tragic with. I honestly can say that I feel the same. Did it lift some of the weight, I wonder? Do you feel lighter N? I did, after I expressed my hidden world to you. The one I fought with so, so often and I now find that I don’t as much._

_I have cleared things from my mind, for the most part, as much as it will allow me. There are some things that I fear will never leave. How you have changed some parts of me!_

_I told that Shop Cat so long ago now, that someone would have to be pretty amazeballs to find that note, find a connection within it and enough of one, to write to me. You are beyond that word and incredible doesn’t begin to describe you either, I feel._

_I have made a friend. I put myself out there and I made a connection with someone else and it hasn’t been terrible. In fact, it has been…well…pretty amazeballs, ha!_

_I truly believe I owe these changes to nothing else but getting to know you. Walking away from people who no longer serve the direction I am walking in, meeting new ones that can make you see that taking risks can be worth it, on many levels. Letting go of the heavy load of thoughts and emotions that I carry and learning that I can share them with someone and that it’s okay._

_Shivers run through me at the thought of the smiles that run across your mouth. The ones you say are my fault but this, the above ^^^ this is your fault, N. I couldn’t have imagined doing any of these things before you._

_Is that too much? I’m saying too much again. Damnit!_

_I can’t blame whiskey this time. It’s 11am. Would you believe me if I told you I was lunch drunk? Ha! I wouldn’t believe me either._

_I don’t believe I’m mightier than any one else, N. Your words though when I read them…God how you make me smile. To think someone can imagine me in such a way, to imagine such things ABOUT me it’s just…it’s just._

_How often do I make you smile, I wonder sometimes? I remember you telling me many months ago that it was such a rare occurrence, for you. You sat so comfortably within your melancholy. Almost using it as your anchor._

_Do you now N?_

_I find myself walking outside of my sadness so often these days that I feel it being left further and further behind, the more I do it. Maybe those fields of yours that we walk through are cleansing my soul. Cleaning it in preparation for my next adventure…if only I could find the courage to jump._

_Balls. I’m beginning to shiver, time to move and find the Sun._

_Until next time N,_

_W xxx_

_PS: I’m glad your little note to yourself worked and you sent your letter. Your dark isn’t scary, it only serves to bring you closer to me, in the fields that you say we walk x_

……..

Waverly stood in the Sun, warming her bones as she folded the letter neatly and sealed it. She would leave soon to post it. Oh how she yearned for the reply immediately but she knew she would have to wait.

She thought of pale skin, her fingertips. Goosebumps forming and trailing behind her movements. The pulse beneath the Photographers skin against her lips…

“Balls…” Waverly muttered. 

How much longer could she keep doing this? How much longer could she keep questioning what was happening to her? Questioning the buttons within herself the mysterious New Yorker kept pushing? It was becoming too much, not being near her. She dreamt of the red head so often now. Waverly didn’t know how to have a world without N’s presence in it any longer. 

Waverly didn’t want to walk parallel anymore, never meeting.


	7. I’m Willing to Take That Risk...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was tense. She was nervous as fuck. What if W didn’t write back? How long would she decide to check her mailbox for, before she realised the return letter was never coming? What if W had and the post was just running a little behind and it hadn’t reached her yet? Oh God what would she do if she had laid herself bare, only to be left behind and forgotten?

**One week previous:**

_“…I’m willing to take that risk, to be able to finally admit these things, W. I would risk it all to jump with you, if you would jump with me._

_You have my undivided attention._

_I think we need to meet…_

_N”_

Nicole stared at her words. She read them over and over again until she thought that they had almost lost all meaning.

She was going to send it, she had to. The need within her to be in the physical presence of the woman miles and miles away, had become deafening in her ears. Explosive in her heart. Electrical in her damn fingertips.

W had confessed that she was possibly in preparation for a new adventure, if she could only find the courage to jump.

Nicole had found hers. The need had become too great to not admit the feelings she had developed, or that she had become more involved than she ever had before. If they could jump together, Nicole would keep W safe. She would make it her mission to do so. She could barely believe it and she was so scared to admit it, but the Photographer really was willing to risk it all, for the chance to know W. All of her.

The red head cared for nothing else, the want overtaking most thoughts. God how she ached to sit with the small woman, touch her, converse with her. Watch the movements of her mouth, her hands, the corners of her eyes as she spoke with happiness, sadness and yearning. Passion. It had become too much to hold in. Nicole had made the choice to admit her want. Her investment. Her need. At the risk of never receiving a response, Nicole had ventured in to the unknown in asking W to meet.

What would come of it? She didn’t know. Was it part of the original plan? Hell no. Would she receive a response at all? She didn’t know that either but it was all a part of being scared enough, to want something badly enough, to take the damn risk.

Nicole found herself jogging to the mailbox, slamming the letter through the shoot and jogging on past it, not stopping to give it another thought until she had reached the park. Until she had reached Bobo.

“You did it, didn’t you? You sent it?” The bearded man asked as he handed the heavily breathing red head a beer.

Nicole hunched over with her hands on her knees, sucking in as much of the air around her as she could get. She replied breathlessly.

“Fuck yeah I did. If I thought about it any longer I may not have, so I just did it and…I ran. God am I stupid?! I’m stupid aren’t I?” Nicole questioned him, pleading with her eyes.

“Hey now hold up, have a drink of that bottle in your hand and think about it. If you _really_ thought, deep down, that she might not wanna meet you too, you would never have sent it, or fully admitted anything to her at all.” He smiled at her as he stroked the small beard hanging from his chin.

“You think?” Nicole asked worriedly.

“Guarantee it.” He clinked the side of his beer bottle against hers.

They both took a drink, raising the bottles towards each other afterwards.

“Shit Bobo. What if we’re both wrong? What if I never hear from her again? Shit!” Nicole looked away, the all too familiar feeling of abandonment rising in the pit of her stomach, in the back of her throat.

She was beginning to panic.

“She will write. Believe me. Hey-“ Bobo grabbed at the taller woman’s arm to steady her and bring her back to ground.

Nicole looked towards him as his strong, ring covered hand squeezed.

“- if I could paint your story, it would be of two Universes colliding. Coming together in a mass of energy and endless gravity. Forever circling each other, drawn together. It’s that powerful. She will write, Haught.” Bobo clinked his bottle against hers one final time as they drank.

Sitting in silence she smiled at her friend. A little while later he nodded as he left, squeezing her shoulder gently, before walking away. She lived for their moments at times. They just…understood each other on a different level. 

The Photographer finished her beer as she lay back, staring at the cloud filled sky.

“She will write, Haught…” she whispered to herself.

…….. 

**Present day:**

_“I have just finished reading all of your letters again N, including your very last one. How much did it actually scare you to write it, I wonder? To finally put those thoughts down on paper and send it away, out in to the world not knowing if I would respond?_

_Yes, I would definitely say you have found your courage._

_Your words consume me, cover me and keep me warm. You say I have changed your life over these months but I don’t think you realise that you have also changed mine. This self proclaimed loner who has now found a friend. Has found enjoyment in another’s company. In listening to his happy and his sad. His every day and being okay with taking that on board._

_The woman who would never commit to anything or anyone, ever. Yet sits here now, in this moment, prepared to just jump! To jump with someone else._

_With you, N._

_To commit to a feeling. Feelings. Plural. To admit to them and own them, walk with them and begin to notice the amazing effect they have on me._

_The want they make rise within, sometimes too much for me to handle when I think about you so far away from me, which is so often now it’s scary._

_The frost is biting at the windows and all that runs through me is thoughts of your arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer towards your chest to keep us both warm. Have I ever written these things to you? No. Will I sit here now and admit to you that I think them? God yes. You are awakening the courage within me, N and it’s scary as all hell but it’s beautiful._

_I don’t want to walk the fields parallel to you any longer, just a tiny speck. I want to walk in them WITH you._

_I’ll hold out my hand and wait for yours, just tell me where and when._

_Yours,_

_Waverly xxx_

It was time for her name. It was time for everything penned in that letter. The hazel eyed woman folded it neatly, sealing the envelope and rising to grab her jacket. She couldn’t be bothered with what time it was, she needed to send it immediately, before the words printed on the paper scared her even more than she already was.

……..

“You’re too scared to check it, aren’t you?” Bobo watched Nicole as she fidgeted on the grass.

Long legs crossed at the ankles, boots rubbing together at the sides. Jacket pulled and zipped up underneath her neck, Nicole thumbed at the sides of her beanie.

“No.” She looked away.

“Haught, go check it.”

“I will! I will…” The red head kept her eyes averted, not wanting to meet the honest stare of the mohawked artist across from her.

“Scaredy cat, scaredy cat where could she be?” Bobo began in a sing song voice.

“Oh would you look at that, she’s right across from me!” He completed his singing poem with a dry laugh.

“Fuck off Bobo!” Nicole cracked a smile and let the nervous laugh escape her, feeling a little of the tension in her shoulders ease.

“Seriously. Go. Check. It. It’s been just over a week. Something will be there by now, if she wrote back. And she did. Trust me.” Bobo took the cold beer out of her gloved hand and shooed the Photographer away.

She held up her camera, squaring him in the lens, just off centre and snapped in succession. She laughed at the pained look on his face after she had finished.

“You sell them for millions and I want my cut, smart ass.” 

“You ever paint and sell those Universes colliding for millions and I want mine.” The tall woman countered back as she stood, grinning widely.

“Well I’ll never fucking paint it if you don’t go and get her letter that I know is waiting for you. GO.” Bobo shooed her again as he looked away, smiling. He could be such a bastard at times but he always meant well.

Especially with Nicole. Neither of them knew of the depths of each other’s past but they both knew whatever had happened, it was profound. She never asked and neither did he but beautiful trauma came through his work. Beautiful trauma came through hers. That was enough for the pair to connect, in their disconnection from the rest of the world.

Nicole began the 10 minute walk to her mailbox from the park. She hunched over in the brisk weather, hands balled into fists in her jacket pockets.

She was tense. She was nervous as fuck. What if W didn’t write back? How long would she decide to check her mailbox for, before she realised the return letter was never coming? What if W had and the post was just running a little behind and it hadn’t reached her yet? Oh God what would she do if she had laid herself bare, only to be left behind and forgotten? 

“Damnit Haught knock it off! She wrote back. You can feel it.” Such an odd thing to tell herself but somehow, honest.

Nicole decided she had one thing to do first, regardless of whether there was an envelope in that steel box or not. She pulled out her phone and dialled. She waited for the click of the line on the other end.

“Nic.”

“Shae. I’m sorry.” Nicole said calmly.

Silence waited for the red head which she knew would happen. Shae was too good at judging a situation most times. She continued.

“I didn’t give you what you wanted, or even needed in our time together. And I know that. Shit I couldn’t even give you a proper goodbye when you called it off and you deserved that, if anything. I owed you at least that.” Nicole took a deep breath.

“I’m learning how to walk in the world again I guess and I’m still stumbling everywhere. I didn’t treat you how you deserved to be treated. You’re pretty great Shae and I wish you only the best. You deserve only good things. Thank you for keeping me company. I’m sorry I was an ass when you left.” Nicole already felt lighter.

Shae had deserved her heartfelt apology and she should have received it the day she walked away from the Photographer, instead of the silence she was given. That wasn’t fair and Nicole felt the pressing need to fix it.

God…Nicole was beginning to think she was growing as a person. Recognising the way of the world around her again. Holy wow.

“Thank you, Nic. It means a lot. I didn’t get you, in the end, which would have been wonderful. Because you _are_ wonderful. Please don’t ever think you’re not. But I shared time with you and I will carry that with me. It has to be enough. Take care of yourself.” Shae ended the call.

The pale skinned woman exhaled a loud rush of air as she put her phone back in her pocket. That part of her journey was now at peace. That was okay. She turned the corner and retrieved her key.

How long was she going to stare at the mailbox, she wondered? She felt her hand twitch.

“Jesus Haught just open the fucking thing!” She scalded herself as she reached for the lock, hearing it click as she swung the tiny door open.

Nicole grabbed at the pile of coloured paper as she quickly flipped through it, dispensing what wasn’t required in the bin to her left.

“Junk, junk, bill, junk, catalo-…” 

An envelope.

 _N_ penned neatly on the front.

Nicole felt her breath stop. Her heart stop. 

“She wrote back…” she whispered.

……..

Nicole sat in her darkroom, nothing but a puddle.

She was pretty sure the letter in her hand had been read at least 100 times. 

Dimples on full display at this point, the Photographer beamed.

“Waverly…” she whispered.

“Oh my God it’s beautiful. Of course it is….” she continued to whisper to herself as she let the woman’s name twirl around her thoughts with her eyes closed.

Waverly had let her in just a little more, had let the auburn haired woman know her name. She thought about her, thought about touching her, thought about wanting Nicole to wrap herself around her body, in to her. Just as Nicole had spent so long doing on this side of the border line. She had finished off her letter with _“Yours…”_

Best of all, Waverly also wanted to meet. Where? When? What was the next step now? Nicole’s mind was beginning to reel with all of the possible outcomes of the next step when the timer broke the silence, bringing her back to herself.

She raised herself from the chair, heading to the first of four trays. The Developer had removed enough of the film off the slide for the image to have appeared. Nicole reset the timer for the last two trays. She wanted to over expose the images in those. This one was under and the tray in the middle would be okay in about six minutes.

As she slid the first image from the tray, she was instantly unhappy. It wasn’t what she wanted at all. That was okay, she still had three to go. The phone rang on the table beside her chair.

“Holliday.” Nicole smiled as she answered.

“Well hello there Miss Haught. Have I caught you at a bad time?” The southern man drawled.

“Not at the moment, in about five and a half minutes, yes.” The Photographer answered back.

“Then I shall make it quick. Side Room is setting up your images this week. We are unsure of the lighting required for the image you are having Couriered to me tomorrow?” He asked.

“Ah. Picture Light mounted from the top, low wattage, warm tone. I want you to have to stand close to it. Become almost intimate with it, to understand the image. Make sense?” Nicole replied as she disposed of the first exposure.

“Understood Miss Haught. When will you be making your appearance?” John Henry asked tentatively, sounding almost too scared for the answer.

“I will be there Holliday. No big hoo-haa. Once my presence is known to a few, you can tell the Gallery Director she may introduce me to others she deems appropriate. I will arrive and leave of my own accord.” She looked at her watch for the middle tray.

“Time to go, I will see you next week in Manhattan John.” 

“Farewell, Nicole.” John Henry ended the call.

Nicole glanced to the trays further over and already knew she didn’t want the over exposed shots. She had found the one she wanted. 

“Boom. There it is.” Nicole smiled as she slid the image from the liquid, hanging it above her head to begin drying out.

“Hi there, Bobo.” She stood back, admiring the grey scale image of the hardened face with the softened side profile, just for her as she snapped away.

It captured his essence perfectly. Fierce yet lost, hard but soft for her and the tiny few he took under his wing. Quiet and brooding. Bobo. He would be shown at the end of next week, if the artist gave her permission to do so.

Nicole stopped and caught her breath.

End of next week.

She shifted back to the table as her alabaster hand moved in loops and swirls, before her brain had time to catch up.

_“Side Room Gallery, W 25th Street, Manhattan. Friday 1st – 7pm._

_Yours in return,_

_Nicole xxx”_

The Photographer ran the block. 

“Don’t question it. Don’t question it. Don’t. Question. It.” She repeated to herself breathlessly the whole way. 

“Don’t question it!” She said a final time as the envelope floated through the slot in the mailbox.

Nicole panted heavily as she bent forward, catching air.

One week, two days.

Nicole continued to breathe as she lifted her bent head towards the mailbox.

Would Waverly be there?


	8. Manhattan in the Cold...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I of all people understand fleeting time, Holliday. Thank you, though. This work is a little different I will admit. But I…I _feel_ different. Almost as if light has decided to begin creeping in to the place that normally likes the dark. It’s not…unpleasant.” The Photographer shrugged awkwardly as she moved away.

“Have you googled it yet? Tell me you’ve at least googled it Waverly!” Jeremy asked from beside her.

“No Jeremy I told you, I refuse to.” The small woman answered back as she looked up through the large glass panes towards the roof.

“And don’t you, either.” She slapped him gently on the shoulder.

“Why a Gallery though?” He wondered.

“Well…it’s public. She’s a Photographer so there is a point of interest there for her…could be many reasons.” Waverly wondered to herself as well.

“I may…may have done a liiiiitle google.”

“Damnit Jeremy! I don’t want to know. If I know too much about any of this before it happens, I’ll scare the shit out of myself even more! Having the courage to jump, means actually _doing_ it and not just saying it.” Waverly raised her eyebrows as she looked at the small man.

“It was only to make sure you were prepared! You know, with what to wear and stuff! And lucky I did because there’s an event there tomorrow night. So you know…dress nice.” He shrugged as he shrunk away from Waverly laughing as she hit him over the shoulder.

“You don’t think I dress nice?! You are _such_ an ass!” 

“No of course I do! I do! I just mean, like…there’s an event they’re putting on so maybe you know…you could get all fancy if you wanted and…and it wouldn’t look out of place. That’s all I’m saying!” Jeremy stood and put his hands up in mock surrender. 

“Ready to go?” He asked as he grabbed her case for her.

Waverly took her case back off him and wheeled it herself.

“You are the intern for Professor Dolls, not my intern Jeremy, I can wheel my own bag. You are my…friend.” Waverly smiled.

“Well.” Jeremy coughed to clear his throat awkwardly.

“Well ah…as your _friend_ I am happy to take you to the airport, Waverly.” Jeremy beamed at her as they made their way to the exit.

……..

“Nervous?” He asked as they stood outside of the departure lounge.

“I’ve lived through a lot of things Jer. A lot. This is close to the top of the list of nerves. Not _the_ top though so for now, it’s manageable.” Waverly laughed softly as she looked up at the opening doors.

“Time to go, I guess.” Jeremy glanced towards the lounge.

“You don’t need luck Waverly. I think this is right for you, truly. You need this push in your life. Go get her.” Jeremy gave the tiny woman the biggest hug she had ever experienced in her life.

She dropped her bag, just to hug him back. She didn’t realise how much she had needed it, until it was happening. How nice it felt to have him in her world. Waverly already cared for the sweetly nervous man deeply.

“Oh my God they’re calling my flight. Eep! I have to go!” Waverly grinned widely as she waved Jeremy off, jogging through the door to get to her gate.

……..

Manhattan in the cold was beautiful. Waverly would always prefer nature over brick and steel but there was something about this place in the colder time of year that made her catch her breath.

By the time she had checked in to her hotel it was early evening. She called downstairs to have a bottle of whiskey sent up as well as her meal for the night. 

The warm water hit her body and she sighed loudly. What a day. What a week. What a moment in her quiet little existence. The journey up until this point had been so surreal for the tiny woman, yet she found herself welcoming it. Waverly was scared. God she was scared! She was nervous and jittery and undone but all of it was in the best ways. 

As she tipped her head back underneath the stream of water, she smiled quietly to herself. Tomorrow night she would meet her. She would meet the mysterious woman she now knew to be Nicole. Such a wonderfully quiet name for someone she knew was a wonderfully quiet, reflective person. 

For all of the hurt and mistrust that Nicole had carried, Waverly knew without a doubt how privileged she was, that Nicole had trusted her with those things within her words. With her pain. She trusted her with her happiness. The Photographer would always be beautiful to Waverly, no matter what.

Waverly had trusted her with her own pain. Her own haunted thoughts of her mother and father. Her sisters, always following her around in some way, shape or form, albeit less frequently lately. Nicole had taken it in her stride and never shied away from Waverly once it was shared and for the smaller woman, it had meant the world.

She exited the shower and dried. As she dried her long, wavy hair she poured herself a drink.

“Nicole…” she whispered to herself as she looked out in to the darkened sky, enjoying the view.

Waverly also enjoyed the thought that maybe, the auburn haired woman could be looking out at the same sky. She could be wandering around Manhattan somewhere below her. The grin would not leave her lips.

She would need to go shopping the next morning for her outfit.

……..

“Miss Gardner has asked if you would like to view the arrangements they’ve used before tonight?” John Henry asked the tall red head as he adjusted his bow tie. 

He looked a little cute. Middle of bustling New York and here he was, all boots and moustache and black Stetson. Leather belt and cigar, as if he had to remind himself of his roots. Nicole had come to adore certain traits about the man, she had to admit.

Nicole thought for a moment. Did she want to go before she was really ready? The Photographer was no stranger to the Side Room Gallery. She had been showcased there before and they were always happy with her work. She had walked the Gallery floor six years ago when they were showcasing another Photographer and Nicole wanted to see the images in person.

With its polished concrete floors and exposed ceiling, the space really gave the viewer every advantage, with white washed walls and plain white staircase. The entirety of the space was left sleek and plain on purpose, so that the only focus for the eye was the art and image installations themselves. White washed walls and plain concrete also gave creative reign to what lighting could be used to accentuate a piece. It really was one of the Galleries Nicole liked the most and she always loved when they approached her, asking to show her catalogue of work or to let her know they had an interested buyer for her images.

“I’ve shown there before Holliday. I trust their work to showcase mine in the right light.” Came Nicole’s answer.

“Very well. Nicole I am proud of you. This work…these images for this Showing that you have selected. They surely are you if I have ever seen it. However they are a different _kind_ of you. Your work is evolving in to something almost magical. Whatever you have found Miss Haught…well now I can see that you are all the happier for it. Don’t let it go. Time is fleeting and waits for no man.” John Henry coughed to clear his throat as he squeezed her upper arm.

“I of all people understand fleeting time, Holliday. Thank you, though. This work is a little different I will admit. But I…I _feel_ different. Almost as if light has decided to begin creeping in to the place that normally likes the dark. It’s not…unpleasant.” The Photographer shrugged awkwardly as she moved away. 

She couldn’t help but smile however decided not to continue the conversation.

“I’m heading to the bar. I will see you there Holliday. Scouts honour.” Nicole laughed quietly.

“I don’t doubt you will arrive Miss Haught. I just wouldn’t be surprised if it was five minutes before it was all over with.” He tipped the brim of his hat in her direction as she walked off, making her way to the bar for some quiet time to think.

……..

“Just a beer thanks - whatever’s on tap.” Nicole sat at the bar and ran her fingertips over the polished timber as she waited for the cold beverage.

Her fingers were shaking a little and she flicked them gently back and forth, trying to calm her fidgety nerves. Oh God how was she supposed to keep her composure around this woman? What if she didn’t even show up?!

Nicole hadn’t received a response from Waverly since she had sent the four lined note to her very early the week before. She hadn’t expected to, knowing the window of time was very short until the Gallery showing. Nicole felt like Waverly would show up, however there was still the tiny voice of doubt currently doing the two-step in her mind.

Nicole didn’t know how she would deal with the fallout, if the woman so far away from her for all of these months, turned out to be just like the people of her past. Fake, ridiculous and hollow. Nicole had made short work of the beer and raised the glass at the bartender to order another one.

“Slow down there Haught. You have somewhere pretty important to be in a few hours…” 

The tall, well built man sidled up beside her as he slumped down on the stool. He smoothed either side of the mohawk as he asked the bartender for the same thing she was having.

“Did you follow me here? Can’t go a few days without me, huh?” Nicole looked at him and smiled.

“Nothing like that. I’m just here to watch my ugly mug get sold for those millions. Make sure you don’t stiff me on my cut.” Bobo ran his fingers down the angle of his beard as he took his eyes up to the TV above their heads.

“I’m a little bit grateful that you’re here.” She followed his line of vision to the screen.

“Yeah well…everyone needs a wingman every now and then, right?” Bobo clinked the beer mug against the red heads.

“Scared?”

“Like you wouldn’t fucking believe.”

“Then it’s worth doing, Haught.”

Together, they watched the screen.

……..

Waverly looked at herself in the mirror.

Off the shoulder, the black dress sat perfectly. With a split up to mid thigh, it was simple but classy, accentuated her shape and was fitting for whatever ‘event’ Jeremy had told her to dress for. Silver bracelet and black purse, the small woman needed little else for the evening, as her hair twisted and curled over her right shoulder down her chest. She was startled by the knock on her room door.

“The hell is that?” She whispered to herself as she walked towards it.

Waverly couldn’t help the grin that crept across her face upon opening the door. At the red velvet jacket, small black bow tie and pressed black pants that hung off her friend.

“Jeremy what the?! When did you get here?!” Waverly said excitedly.

“No way I was letting you do this on your own. I know, I know! You’re independent and you’ve always done things yourself. But not this. I’m here for you and I want you to know that! Also a little curious…and…just really want to know what she’s like.” Jeremy laughed as he hugged the tiny woman in the black dress.

“I can’t believe you’re here! I didn’t know it would mean this much but…it does.” Waverly cleared her throat awkwardly.

It was hard to admit that she liked the presence of someone other than herself in her life. The wavy haired woman found herself having to accept that revelation not only in the case of Nicole but also with Jeremy.

“So…ah…thank you.” Waverly smiled as she rubbed his arm.

“Drink?” Jeremy asked as he shifted from heel to heel.

“God yes!” Waverly answered quickly as she let him in through the door, closing it quietly behind herself as she moved to the minibar.

“How do you feel?” The darker man ventured as he watched her fill the glasses.

“I want to say cool and calm…but I feel completely out of my depth.” She laughed nervously.

“There is still _such_ a big part of me that thinks I’m crazy for doing this. For being here. But such a big part of me honestly couldn’t think of being anywhere else. That last note from her…Jesus Jeremy I think about it all of the time. How I felt when I read it. How happy it made me and how I wished I could just be here immediately. I don’t know what’s going to happen tonight but I know I would always regret it if I never came, and I would miss her if we ever lost touch. That sounds weird doesn’t it? Oh God it’s a weird thing to say…” Waverly gulped at the amber fluid as she poured herself another one, trying to stop her hand from shaking.

“Hey hey, hey now it’s okay! It’s great to be a little nervous or scared and it’s not weird.” Jeremy put his hands over her shoulders and made her look at him.

“She wouldn’t have asked you here Waverly if meeting up wasn’t something she really wanted. I don’t know her from her letters like you do and even I know that. So I think deep down, you _definitely_ know that to be the truth.”

“Be scared. Be nervous. Because you want the spark and you want the magic, even if you don’t realise you do, or you think you don’t deserve to have it. You guys light each other up and it’s okay for it to be a beautiful thing.” Jeremy hugged her again.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you in my life. But…to the weird intern at work that kept staring at me.” Waverly raised her glass as they clinked them together, Jeremy laughing to the toast in return.

“Thanks…I think?” He laughed again as he finished his glass off.

“Ready?”

“No. Yes. But definitely no. But definitely yes. Urgh balls...” Waverly shook her head, giggling nervously as they made their way to the lifts and the waiting car downstairs.

……..

“Thank you.” Waverly smiled politely as she was handed a flute of champagne on entry to the Gallery. 

Jeremy nodded his thanks for his as they made their way through in to the larger area.

Small groups of people milled about as they discussed what Waverly assumed to be the art expertly placed along the white walls, or imagery they were standing in front of at the time. 

The place was beautiful. Clean, with the artists pieces placed and hung wonderfully. Moderate lighting so that you found you really wanted to focus on nothing else other than the pieces displayed before you.

“It’s wonderful.” Waverly said quietly as she looked around.

Was she looking for Nicole? She was. She couldn’t deny it within herself and she didn’t think she was cool enough to make it look like she wasn’t, should anyone notice.

“I have to agree. These pieces are beautiful. The images are so haunted but…just real.” Jeremy whispered as he looked around.

The wavy haired woman continued to scan her immediate surrounds, taking in the magnificent images before her. 

She stopped.

“Jeremy…” Waverly’s breath caught in her throat so that his name came out as barely a whisper.

“Mmm?” He replied.

Waverly began to shake a little as the grey scale image of the man stole her entire focus. Soft yet fierce, a look of longing moving across the light of his side profile. A longing for what? He had suffered immense pain, Waverly could tell. He was staunch and strong, yet fragile and hurt all at the same time. As wonderful as the shot was, it wasn’t why Waverly shook.

The tiny, white card in the corner of the image was why Waverly shook.

_“Bobo.”_  
_\+ 0.80 Exposure, Grey Scale, 8 x 10_  
_Nicole Haught_

“Jeremy I think we’re here for her work. This event. It’s about her. Look…” Waverly felt like she still couldn’t breathe as she pointed the card out to her friend.

Waverly knew the Nicole that had taken this photograph, was her Nicole. The haunting, far away look. The disconnection. The pain but the soft side at the same time. She captured things she felt. It had to be hers.

They all had to be, the small woman began to notice as she looked around, the light in the right hand corner catching her eye.

As Waverly moved toward the image on the white stone block, she was taken. The warm light cast its glow over the print so subtly that you had to be right in front of it to really appreciate the piece. 

The beauty of the stone woman was breathtaking. Reaching to the heavens, asking for permission to enter, the leaves that fell around her were captured in perfect timing. Yellows, oranges, golds. Reds. The green of the ethereal beauty as she looked skyward, made of stone but in no way heavy. She was beautiful. Captivating. Heartbreakingly haunted.

The entire image spoke of beauty and loss. A love so profound that had been taken away, you almost felt as if you weren’t given any time to process what you were seeing.

Waverly Earps heart broke and soared all at the same time, when she recognised exactly what she was looking at.

“Her letter. Jeremy I think this is the image Nicole spoke to me about in one of her letters. Oh my God…” Waverly reached out her fingertips to touch the velvet of his jacket, looking for his arm to steady herself as she spoke.

“As a matter of fact Waverly, it is.” The quiet, female voice replied to her from behind. 

Waverly turned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys just wanted to check in to let you know that I am still reading each and every comment that comes through to me. How absolutely beautiful you all are, out there around the world reading my little words and finding joy in them.
> 
> It blows me away how an idea can become something greater than you originally imagine it to be. Who would have thought this world would stem from three notes on an A5 piece of paper and dance around my head for a little while...?
> 
> I am truly grateful for every single one of you amazing human beings 👏🏼


	9. It was Just Another Showing...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole rubbed the snowflake tattoo on her hand. They _were_ uniquely hers. And _why_ they were, was never something she was willing to share with the greater public. She had always told herself if she avoided these situations then she wouldn’t have to. Tonight was different though.

It was just another Showing, no big deal. 

Except it was.

Nicole steadied herself as she headed for the back entrance of the Gallery. Adjusting the dark blue, floor length dress she shook her straight, shoulder length hair away from the long earrings as she waited for the Guard to let her in. Holliday was waiting for her along with the Gallery Director.

“Miss Haught, always a pleasure to see you.” The Director shook her hand gently.

“Mercedes, you haven’t changed one bit.” Nicole smiled at the woman across from her as she took her hand.

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.” The Director laughed.

“Straight to it then. There are three Guests I would like you to meet this evening. At your own pace, of course. No sucking up, no fancy dinners to attend after tonight, I promise.” Mercedes smiled at Nicole, sensing her uncomfortableness at the thought of meeting with the public.

“Okay. Give me the time to warm myself to the room and the placement of my images and I’m all yours.” 

“Always good to see you Nicole, even if it’s not very often. Your work for this Showing is breathtaking. I already have interested buyers, especially for your main piece. Absolutely stunning. Now if you will excuse me, there is champagne and sucking up for me to do, just so you don’t have to. Find me when you’re ready.” Mercedes winked at Nicole as she turned to leave.

“Always a delight, Miss Gardner.” John Henry tipped his hat toward the Director as she left.

The Photographer let out a loud huff of air once they were alone. The tension was slowly releasing in her shoulders at the thought of having to meet with others to discuss her work. Her inspiration behind her images. It was always tough to navigate and the main reason why she steered away from Gala events. 

“It will be okay Nicole. You never have to share what makes your images so uniquely yours, if you don’t want to. Generic answers can always work, too.” Holliday placed his protective hand on her shoulder, reading her state of mind.

Nicole rubbed the snowflake tattoo on her hand. They _were_ uniquely hers. And _why_ they were, was never something she was willing to share with the greater public. She had always told herself if she avoided these situations then she wouldn’t have to. Tonight was different though.

On the one hand she did owe herself and John Henry a public appearance. It had been so long that she did actually believe it was the right thing to be doing. On the other hand…

Nicole needed to see if the small but mighty, hazel eyed Waverly had decided to attend. The Photographers heart ached at the possibility that she would not be there. There were so many pieces of herself that she would have to deal with, if the other woman wasn’t.

There were so many pieces of herself she would have to deal with if Waverly _was._

“You seem a different kind of nervous, Miss Haught.” John Henry brought Nicole back from her thoughts.

“You seriously need to go and play the professional poker circuit. It’s clearly where your talent lies, Holliday.” Nicole leant her head to the side as she adjusted an earring, keeping it out of her hair as she looked at him.

“I have many irons in many fires Nicole. Careful, I may disappear on you one day and do just that.” He laughed.

“I’m just. Mmm.” Nicole looked away.

“I’m just hoping for someone to maybe be here –“

Holliday held up his hand to quiet the auburn haired woman.

“No need to say any more. If they are the reason for the difference in your imagery lately, the difference in _you,_ they shall be here. I doubt the Universe would accept otherwise.” John Henry replied.

“You say that because?” Nicole enquired.

“Because for there to be such a difference in you Miss Haught, the shift in the other must be just as profound. Such changes…well now who _wouldn’t_ want to be in the presence of the person that helped make them?” Holliday turned to leave.

“Damn this new age “no smoking” policy that seems to be catching on. Man needs to go and stand in the God forsaken elements to enjoy his pastime…” He mumbled to himself as he walked off disappearing from her view, Nicole laughing at his crankiness.

“Alright Haught.” She took a deep breath and let it out as she absorbed John Henry’s words of wisdom.

“It’s worth doing…” The Photographer walked towards the Gallery floor.

……..

Mercedes had outdone herself again. The direction she had given her staff on how to prepare, arrange and light Nicole’s work always stunned her. Without having to ask the Photographer the majority of the time, the Director always seemed to know just how to bring out the emotion within her images.

Her grey scales never appeared flat and lifeless, her colours never dull and boring. It was one of the reasons she enjoyed showing her work through Mercedes and the Side Room team.

Mercedes nodded at Nicole as she walked past and Nicole nodded back. Once she was comfortable with how everything was placed, she would return to the Gallery Director for her to begin the introductions to her guests. 

Bobo caught her eye and she made her way over.

“Careful. That ego will inflate too much and we’ll all have to move out of here so you can make room for it.” The Photographer bumped his arm gently as she stood beside him.

“Is it egotistical to stare at myself? Or reflective? I wonder…” He trailed off as they remained in front of her grey scale of the mohawked painter.

“You look reflective in this image. Does that count?” Nicole asked with a small smile.

“A lot to reflect _on,_ Haught. It’s well done. Almost beautiful in its sadness and you captured the light well. I owe you, but don’t forget my cut.” Bobo smiled at her with his sideways glance as he played with his beard.

“Maybe you can paint my story one day, Bobo. How about that?” She smiled back.

“Best you go and find the other half of that story then, huh? Go.” He cocked his eyebrow as he shooed her away. The only thing missing between them was the beer.

As Nicole walked away Holliday made his way towards her, handing her a glass of wine as he continued on his journey forward, meeting with Mercedes. Her images hung beautifully against the white background and those that were not hung, sat with purpose on their stands and pillars. She was looking for her main piece when suddenly, she saw her.

She didn’t know how she knew but in that moment, the Photographer became very aware that the woman with her back to her in the strapless black dress, was Waverly.

Wavy long hair pulled to the side and over her shoulder, the upper half of her back was exposed, revealing tanned smooth, well built lines. The dress accentuated her small frame perfectly and Nicole felt the shiver run throughout her entire being, at the realisation that she was staring at the small but mighty woman in her letters. She had to be.

“It’s worth doing Haught God damnit…” she whispered to herself under her breath as she walked towards the woman standing with a red jacket clad gentleman.

As the Photographer neared the pair, she could hear the angelic voice of the woman in black, talking quietly to the man beside her. Upon hearing her words she definitely knew that it was Waverly.

“Her letter. Jeremy I think this is the image Nicole spoke to me about in one of her letters. Oh my God…”

“Answer her Haught…” she told herself quickly and before she had time to question it further, Nicole spoke.

“As a matter of fact Waverly, it is.”

The Photographer watched as the woman tensed slightly in surprise, turning to face her and she swore her heart stopped. Time stopped. The world around her stopped and ceased to exist.

Waverly was just as beautiful on the outside, as Nicole already knew her to be on the inside. Breathtaking was an understatement.

“Wooooooow…” Nicole heard the elongated word whispered from Waverly’s beautiful lips, so quietly as they locked eyes. 

“Whoah. Time for me to go ah…go um, thi – this way.” Jeremy said softly as he stood away and headed towards the bar, leaving the two women alone in the quiet space.

They stared at each other in silence for a moment longer before Waverly broke it, raising her small hand and twisting it at the wrist so that it was palm up, towards the red head.

“Waverly Earp. It’s your choice to take it.” Waverly smiled up at Nicole as she gestured with her open hand.

God she was beautiful. 

Nicole swallowed hard, her heart thumping loudly in her chest, her throat. Her ears. She could tell the same was happening to the smaller woman standing in front of her.

“Nicole Haught –“ she watched as Waverly’s hazel eyes took in her facial features.

She slid her palm softly over the smaller woman’s, warm skin sending shocks through her as they connected.

“- and there is no doubt that this smile, is _entirely_ your fault…” 

At the connection of their hands, Nicole hoped they had both decided to jump.


	10. There was Nothing Quite Like it...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesus she needed a drink. She could recall every second of her first interaction with Waverly Earp. Every second. Nicole was cool and in control on the exterior however she didn’t think she had ever felt her heart beating as fast as it had whilst she stood in front of the smaller woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So I genuinely felt bad that I left you all with two cliffhangers in a matter of days. It’s not very fair being so close to Christmas and I don’t want to be a Grinch so I decided to upload the next one... 🙃 
> 
> x

There was nothing quite like it, Waverly was convinced.

There sure as hell wasn’t anything like Nicole Haught, she knew _that_ for certain. 

Waverly was captivated from the moment she had turned, connecting the soft voice to even softer features. Her wonderful neutral skin tone, warm auburn hair and the kindest, most creative brown eyes the smaller woman had ever seen. Such pools of wonder and interest directed only at her.

Waverly almost melted at the slight tilt of the taller woman’s head as her hand moved over her own, subtle smile lighting up her features and dimples to die for. 

Waverly Earp had never been left speechless for any reason that was good, in all of her life. If this was going to be the first time it happened, she couldn’t have been happier that it was because of the woman standing in front of her. If every smile that danced across those lips looked like the one directed at her in that moment, Waverly was pretty sure taking the blame was worth it.

Not being able to find words, the tiny woman tore away her gaze and directed it instead to the image at her left. That, she could comment on. She turned to face the stone pedestal to fully appreciate the work upon it.

“She’s beautiful, Nicole. Your image is…well it’s heavy yet weightless all at once. I can see loss but I can see so much love. Beauty. The colours of the falling leaves…you can really see that you were trying to capture fire. From the moment I saw it across the room I was so taken by it. I had to come and see it up close.”

Waverly could feel the presence of the taller woman extremely close behind her when she moved. When Nicole spoke, it sent shivers upwards between the smaller woman’s bare shoulders.

“You have a good eye. Thing is, after you trusted me with your history, it really brought me to a place where I could choose how I handled mine. What I found was, I wasn’t ready to share it. I couldn’t be that open with you just yet, I think. But it kept niggling at me, this incessant need to get it out in some way, if not to you.” Nicole took a step closer, Waverly could hear the footstep as her soft voice continued.

Waverly kept her eyes fixed to the beautiful image as the Photographer explained it to her. Nicole’s quiet, steady voice washing over her as she understood moment by moment, exactly what the photograph portrayed. She listened intently, heart full of appreciation for the woman behind her, finally expressing her full truth.

“She has always reminded me of my mother. The artist who carved her gave her a similar jawline, her soft features certainly not a mirror image but in the right light, a reminder all the same. Fire can be brutal. It takes away many things, and quickly. _God_ it can be fast, Waverly. This depiction of the leaves falling so slowly…it’s me trying to slow it down I guess. Maybe give myself time to –“

“- save her…” Waverly finished the sentence quietly as her heart broke a little more for the woman.

After a moment of reflective silence from behind her, Nicole responded.

“Exactly. I couldn’t express any of that to you. It was a little too soon. So I reimagined those thoughts through my lens and brought them to life when I developed the image. Just so happens that the woman waving at me in the field gave me the courage and the inspiration to do so.”

Waverly turned to face the auburn haired beauty.

“So. Thank you, Waverly.” Nicole smiled a little shyly at the smaller woman.

“It must have been hard to lose your mother..” Waverly stared at her intently, unable to take her eyes off the warm brown staring back at her.

“Yes. Both parents actually. But no harder than it was for you to lose yours I would imagine. Different forms of loss but in reality, the same outcome for the both of us, no?” Nicole questioned as she watched Waverly, unable to take her eyes away either, so it seemed.

If Waverly’s heart could have jumped from her chest, it would have as she stared at Nicole. The woman had her completely enraptured. In person she was everything she came across to be in her letters. The Photographer had a way about her that spoke of nothing but honesty. Reservation and realism. Quiet reflection. Incredible hurt but also the potential for immense joy. Was Waverly just assuming she could see that, or was it actually there in front of her as they shared the private moment?

Nicole broke the comfortable, connective silence, changing the subject for a brief period.

“I have an obligation to go and meet with a few others, Waverly. Nature of the beast when I’m present at one of these things.” The Photographer took her eyes away for a beat to look past the smaller woman over her shoulder.

Waverly noticed as she nodded slightly to someone behind her.

“I will try my best not to get held up.” Nicole smiled warmly at her as she brought her eyes back to meet Waverly’s hazel.

“Look. Absorb. Study. Don’t judge my work too harshly and drink the champagne, it’s free.” Nicole laughed quietly as she grabbed for Waverly’s hand at her side, squeezing it gently as she winked at her.

Waverly felt the hitch of her breath at the back of her throat as Nicole leant forward and down, so close to her jawline she could feel the warmth of her skin radiating on to her own. The smell of vanilla filled her senses as the auburn hair lightly tickled at her neck. The Photographer whispered quietly in her ear.

“Just so you know, I think you are mesmerising Waverly. To actually be standing in front of you…I don’t honestly have the words at the moment to explain it. Don’t go too far, I won’t be long.” Nicole squeezed her hand gently again as she moved past her, making her way towards the gentleman in the black hat.

Waverly stood motionless as her stare followed in Nicole’s direction. It was as if she was that physically drawn to her she couldn’t tear her eyes away.

“Please tell me she’s real, Jesus Christ…” Waverly waited until the taller woman was out of earshot before the words quietly escaped her.

“Seriously. I’m beginning to believe in fate and manifesting and Universes and Mother Nature. Einstein, Newton. Galileo. _Anything_ if it means the possibility of this ever happening in my life. Waverly she is… She’s really real. I didn’t even have to be _near_ the pair of you to see the chemistry from across the room. How does this even happen to a person?! And oh my God I’m rambling here have your drink.” Jeremy finished quickly as he took Waverly’s champagne flute and replaced it with a glass of whiskey.

“Woooooooow…” Waverly whispered again in awe, as she took her eyes away from the back of the Photographer to look at Jeremy, apparently speechless again.

“Wow indeed.” The darker man replied, eyebrows raised in Waverly’s direction.

……..

“Miss Haught shall we do some introductions?” John Henry looped his arm through hers as he guided her towards the right hand side of the Gallery.

“Bar first if you don’t mind?” Nicole replied. 

Jesus she needed a drink. She could recall every second of her first interaction with Waverly Earp. Every second. Nicole was cool and in control on the exterior however she didn’t think she had ever felt her heart beating as fast as it had whilst she stood in front of the smaller woman.

She had taken Nicole’s breath away from the moment she had turned, to see who had spoken to her from behind. Small but fierce, Waverly exuded independence and strength. One look at her and you could not mistake that the woman was confident in who she was. Nicole assumed the lost little girl had disappeared long ago and what had replaced her was the educated, beautiful, mighty woman who now stood tall in the same room as the Photographer.

The initial feeling had scared Nicole when she had placed her hand within Waverly’s smaller one. A passion had ignited within her at the first sight of the woman in black. When she had touched her though…it had accelerated to a level she wasn’t prepared for. The red head had to admit it had caught her off guard, just how intense it actually was when she held Waverly’s hand, watched her eyes as they spoke. Her mouth curve at the corner as the tiny smile appeared.

Nicole brought forth all the self control she could muster when she leant in to the smaller woman to tell her she was mesmerising. It wasn’t a lie. Waverly Earp most definitely had all of her attention. Her mind, her body. Damnit her radiance. She made Nicole _feel._

Never before had she been able to speak so openly about her past to another person. It flowed so freely from the Photographer as they were discussing her main piece. What she had not been able to bring herself to write in detail in her letters, she had managed to open up and speak instead, just by being in the presence of the smaller woman. It was so incredibly nerve wracking and amazing all at the same time, what she felt she was capable of around Waverly. Nicole felt a little shell shocked, if she was honest.

Mercedes joined Holliday and herself as she was guided toward the first Guest of Honour they wanted her to meet. A major collector in the art world and major contributor to the Gallery, of course he was first on the list to meet her.

“Pleasure to meet you.” Nicole extended her hand.

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Haught.” He replied as the barrage of questions commenced. 

Nicole was surprised at the amount she was willing to share. Some things were kept to herself and always would be, regardless, however speaking about certain moments of inspiration and her ideas came easier than she thought. If she had a moment where she thought she was stumbling or stagnating, her eyes wandered until they rested upon the beautiful woman in black across the room.

The Photographer fed from the strength Waverly exuded. The confidence in how she moved, how she spoke to the man walking the Gallery floor with her. All of these things pushed Nicole to find her own when it came to discussing her work. She had to admit it was kind of a nice feeling, expressing how she created some of her images, even if they did stem from heartache or pain. She used generic answers very little, if at all with the Guests she was introduced to. 

“I’ve never heard you speak about your work in such a way Miss Haught. My word…there is a _lot_ going on in there.” John Henry tipped the brim of his hat toward her head as he nodded. 

“And there…” he pointed to her heart.

“Well. You could say, I’m in the presence of the person who helped to make some…changes Holliday.” The Photographer repeated the mans words back to him as they both drank from their glasses.

“Ah. Understood. Well they are certainly a wonderful influence then Nicole. I wish nothing for you but it’s continuance. If you’ll excuse me.” John Henry smiled beneath the elaborate moustache as he made his way back towards the bar.

As Nicole finished her drink, a Guest pulled her aside to discuss the grey scale of Bobo. She found she didn’t mind at all…

……..

“Tell me you’re feeling what I can see?” Jeremy questioned the tiny woman as they stood in front of the bar and waited for their refills.

“Damnit Jeremy what _is_ it with you and needing to know what goes around my head all of the time?!” Waverly replied in jest, trying to slightly avoid the confronting question.

The darker man smiled straight back at her.

“Ding, ding, ding! Knew it.” He laughed a little.

“You and I have formed a pretty amazing friendship over the small amount of time we’ve known each other, wouldn’t you say?”  
He asked.

“Mmm. Where are you going with this?” Waverly questioned back.

“I stare a lot, remember? Which also means I _notice_ things Waverly. Wanna know what I noticed?” Jeremy’s eyes lit up as he spoke with genuine affection for his friend.

Waverly couldn’t deny she shared the same look when they spoke. Oh how she didn’t realise she had needed someone like Jeremy in her life. To push her and make her open up and express certain things. To remind her in subtle ways that she _was_ strong and powerful and didn’t need to question every feeling she had course through her, on this far out journey she had been taken on these last months. Sometimes it was perfectly okay to enjoy them.

She raised her eyebrows at the man beside her, so he continued.

“I see someone falling for that woman over there, all red headed and blue dressed and amazing and tall and quiet and brooding in all of the right ways…”

“Oh crap. I think _I_ might be falling for her…I wonder if she comes in male form?” 

“Jesus Jeremy!” Waverly slapped the tiny man on the arm as he laughed.

“You clearly find your courage and your confidence when you drink, know that?”  
The small woman joked as they moved towards a small viewing piece to the left of the bar.

“Seriously though. I do see it Waverly. In _both_ of you. The entire world could have fallen down around the pair of you before and neither of you would have noticed. That’s rare. You know that, right?” Jeremy turned towards her as his facial features searched hers for the clarity he was waiting for.

“Jer this is… Shit this is the stuff you see in movies. Read about it novels. It doesn’t _actually_ happen, does it?” Waverly thought the second the words came out of her mouth, that she was asking herself the question more so than her friend.

“I mean…in all the time we’ve spoken I’ve never had my brain switched on in the way she can make it happen. Never had my thoughts go where they go until her. Then to see her and she’s…” Waverly trailed off as she found Nicole across the Gallery floor and couldn’t take her eyes away.

“…damnit she’s stunning! It breaks my heart how wonderful she is. This can’t be real.” Waverly felt the slight panic rise in her chest at the thought that if Nicole didn’t feel the things she was feeling within herself after meeting, this could all end.

For all of the surety Waverly carried within herself, the calm and the knowing, this moment had her a little rattled. 

“Waverly.” Jeremy placed his hand on her upper arm and squeezed gently, bringing her attention back to his gaze.

“I repeat. She is really real and I think her world stopped the second yours did. I’m not that drunk.” He laughed as his eyes darted above her head.

“…aaaand I also think she’s coming this way.” His eyebrows raised at Waverly as he finished off the rest of his whiskey.

She felt her heart quicken in her chest. Cool, calm and confident Waverly was quickly disappearing. Jesus she needed to get a handle on herself! 

Nicole was real.

So was Waverly and that’s all that mattered.

The small woman turned and locked eyes with the Photographer, strength and quiet confidence slowly returning.

“Waverly Earp, we meet again.” Nicole said quietly as she extended her hand out towards Jeremy, changing the direction of her gaze at the last moment.

“Nicole Haught, lovely to meet you.”

“Jeremy. I love your work. And I think maybe you, just a little.” Jeremy squinted his eyes together and then nervously laughed.

“Oh Jesus Jeremy…” Waverly put her head down slightly and shook it.

God he was endearing when he was nervous and apparently a little drunk.

“Well. I would call the night a success then. Lucky me.” Nicole winked at Jeremy and Waverly had to laugh at the instant blush that crept across his soft skin.

“Mind if I steal your new found love away for a moment Jeremy?” Waverly interjected as she watched Nicole turn to look at her, slightly surprised at the forwardness.

She was finding her feet again quite quickly, it would seem.

“Nope. No. Not at all. Bar, drink. Me.” Jeremy pointed behind himself as he smiled awkwardly and turned to leave the pair alone.

“Lovely man.” Nicole motioned with her hand towards him as he left.

“He really is. Especially when he’s nervous. It’s kind of cute.” Waverly responded.

“Have we known each other long enough to get a drink together, do you think?” The smaller woman asked off handedly as she adjusted her bracelet, looking up at Nicole as she did so. 

Confident Waverly for the win.

“Hmm. I find I’m in an accommodating mood this evening, Miss Earp.” Nicole grabbed at Waverly’s hand gently as she guided her towards an attendant with a tray of champagne flutes. 

As she handed one to Waverly she reached out her hand again and looked down.

“Is this okay?” The auburn haired beauty asked.

“Definitely.” Waverly replied a little quickly.

Nicole smiled at the response as she took the queue. Waverly felt the tingle of her skin as the Photographers fingertips slid down the length of her fingers slowly, intertwining them together as she guided them up the staircase, towards the private balcony at the top.

As Waverly turned to appreciate the view from above, she could feel Nicole’s eyes on her. Her breath was short and her heart raced. As much as she tried, she apparently couldn’t control certain things about herself whilst in the presence of the taller woman beside her.

Waverly didn’t look, she just spoke her truth. Her eyes remained trained on the Gallery floor below. Whatever would come of it was for the Universe to decide. 

Waverly was no longer speechless.

“Your work is amazing Nicole. Breathtaking. Thought provoking. Heartbreaking and uplifting. God I’m completely bewitched standing in front of your images. I find I can use the same words to describe them, as I can your letters. As I can you, really.” Waverly finally turned to face the Photographer, willing herself once she looked in to her eyes not to lose her momentum.

“You are everything you write, everything you don’t write and all of the things in between. All it took was a split moment of being in your presence to know what I already knew from your beautiful loops and swirls. Jesus you’ve...Nicole I-“ Waverly let out a rush of air as she tried to formulate how to express the incredible want she had for the woman at her side. 

She didn’t need to.

Waverly’s body gave in and melted against the hand at her jaw, gently lifting her chin. The thumb tip that lightly traced the outline of the bone, moving backwards slowly towards her earlobe, as fingertips curved over the skin of her neck. They found purchase at the nape and pulled her forward.

Waverly sighed quietly as she felt the breath of the taller woman over her lips. Her hand found Nicole’s waist and she placed her palm upon it, finding herself gently pulling at her to move closer. Waverly tilted her head, an incredibly soft moan leaving her throat as the Photographers lips met hers. 

It was soft and full of longing. Months in the making and genuine in every movement. Waverly could feel the strong pad of Nicole’s thumb pushing back against the bone of her jaw hinge, making its way downwards to run over her racing pulse, hammering away under her skin. Nicole released and kissed her again, this time finding Waverly’s hip with her other open hand.

Nicole pulled her closer still, squeezing gently at the nape of her neck. Waverly ached for the kiss to be deeper but she relented, letting the auburn haired woman remain in the lead. After a moment, Nicole regained her senses and softly pulled away.

Waverly opened her eyes and stung at the loss of the warmth that had mixed with her own, her breath a little ragged. Nicole touched her forehead against the smaller woman’s, leaning in to her, catching her breath quietly. Both of them were shaking a little as Nicole remained leaning against her, eyes shut and lips parted slightly. Her fingers never left the nape of Waverly’s neck, her warm hand pressed against the side, the hazel eyed woman’s pulse radiating against it.

Waverly was happy for it to stay.


	11. She Hadn’t Meant to do That...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole opened her eyes and leant back a little, catching the hazel staring back. They stared in silence. There was no need for words in the moment as the taller woman left her hand pressed against Waverly’s neck, her fingers curled around the back. The tiny woman’s pulse hummed against the butt of her palm and Nicole could tell it was beating just as quickly as her own. She wanted to kiss her again.

She hadn’t meant to do that. 

Nicole had found herself entirely caught up in the moment. Entirely caught up in Waverly and her words. Her courage to jump and express her thoughts so freely about the Photographer had swept Nicole away. Her response had morphed from a mental one to a physical one so fast, it was as if her body wanted to react over her mind.

Nicole had taken herself over the edge. Seen it, sped up towards it and leaped. Taking Waverly in her hand and tilting her head up. Watching as she registered what was happening but just as quick Nicole had her lips upon her. It was wonderful. It was soft and beautiful and simple and something that wasn’t meant to happen but perfect all the same. Tentative and a little unsure but sweet enough to crave more.

Nicole opened her eyes and leant back a little, catching the hazel staring back. They stared in silence. There was no need for words in the moment as the taller woman left her hand pressed against Waverly’s neck, her fingers curled around the back. The tiny woman’s pulse hummed against the butt of her palm and Nicole could tell it was beating just as quickly as her own. She wanted to kiss her again.

And again. 

Nicole wanted to keep kissing Waverly until the need was so great, she found the smaller woman’s hands pulling her mouth away and pushing it against her neck. Her shoulders, her chest, her hands and her stomach. Bare skin underneath her fingertips and her mouth until they were both on fire for each other. Nicole sighed quietly at the thought.

The corner of her mouth turned upwards in a subtle smile as she watched Waverly’s head turn a little and angle downwards in to her palm. The small woman closed her eyes as Nicole ran her thumb over her cheek softly, feeling the slight tickle of Waverly’s eyelashes against her fingertip. 

Nicole hooked her thumb back around and brought it forward, skimming the edge of the tiny woman’s bottom lip. She watched, enthralled when she noticed the dip in Waverly’s throat as her breath caught, the feeling on her bottom lip eliciting the response. 

Nicole applied a little more pressure as she brought her thumb back the opposite way, this time catching her own breath as Waverly parted her lips, allowing her thumb to run the length of the top lip as well. Waverly opened her eyes and watched her. 

Nicole continued to watch Waverly.

The red head reached just off centre of Waverly’s bottom lip, dragging down gently with her thumb. The small woman breathed out heavily as they kept their eyes on the other, Nicole doing the opposite and inhaling sharply as she felt the tip of Waverly’s tongue on her thumb pad. 

God she was lost in her. 

This seemingly simple moment meaning more to Nicole then she would have ever thought. Something that had begun as tentative and unsure, now heavy and erotic, dripping with desire for the other.

“Jesus Nicole just kiss me…” Waverly breathed out desperately, giving in and making Nicole pull her upwards.

The taller woman didn’t need any more encouragement. Her right hand came up and joined the other behind the smaller woman’s neck. Nicole gripped a little harder as she used both thumbs to push Waverly’s bottom jaw upwards towards her waiting mouth. 

Her legs weakened slightly at the moan that crept from Waverly’s throat at the hard contact of her lips. She kissed her more confidently this time, taking her bottom lip in between her own, sucking gently on it as her tongue flicked over it slightly. 

She felt the jolt run through Waverly’s muscles when she did. Her lips curled in a smile of understanding against the other woman’s as she flicked her tongue lazily again. Nicole released Waverly’s lips, trying to pull her even closer as she captured them again.

She felt them part, granting her access as she bit down, eliciting a short moan of surprise from the smaller woman pressed against her. 

Waverly took over quickly before Nicole had time to register. The red head gasped against her as she felt the warmth of Waverly’s tongue enter and find her own. Nicole relinquished and let the wavy haired woman lead.

She guided her gently but with need. Want. Intensity. Waverly played the back and forth game well, teasing more from the other each time and Nicole willingly let her. She let her bite her lip, suck her tongue gently in to her waiting mouth. Let them roll under and over each other, exploring and torturing until she had to pull away before she lost all control.

“Damnit Waverly!” Nicole huffed out breathlessly.

They stared at each other, Nicole feeling the power behind every unspoken word, every non action. The raw need was almost too much.

“Damnit good? Damnit bad?” Waverly gasped out quickly.

“Just…damnit! Fuck!” Nicole couldn’t have been articulate in that moment if she had tried.

She smiled and half laughed, letting the breath heave out of her as she squeezed the back of Waverly’s neck harder than before. Nicole tilted her head upwards as she composed herself, shutting her eyes as she breathed. After a moment she took a step back, reluctantly putting space between them.

“Phew…pretty sure I was _not_ prepared for that, Waverly.” Nicole cleared her throat as she quietly laughed again, looking towards the smaller woman as she straightened herself up.

“Can’t say I was either. Damn.” Waverly smiled back at her as she shifted her gaze to the Gallery floor.

“I won’t apologise for it though, Nicole.” Waverly turned her desire filled stare towards the auburn haired Photographer. 

“Any of it.”

Nicole knew what Waverly was doing. She was giving her the chance to remove herself from the situation if she so chose. They had connected, they had met and now they had been somewhat intimate. Waverly was telling her with her statement, that she was still in this. As she stared in to the intense hazel flecks, Nicole knew deep in her heart that she too, wasn’t going anywhere.

Nicole closed the space between them a little more as her hand curled around the smaller woman’s in front of her. Nicole liked simple and easy and this wasn’t that. And that was okay. For the first time, possibly complicated and scary, exciting and intense was okay. This woman was changing her world piece by tiny piece and had been doing so for over six months. Nicole had been willing to let her, making her realise how important it was that Waverly was in her life and to recognise the parts of her that she had helped to alter.

“Waverly I think it might break me a little if you felt like you needed to. Every word of your letters is you. Definitively _you._ Every time you’ve touched me, I can feel… _you._ If for some reason you felt like you needed to apologise for the things contained within those pages or the feelings contained in here…well that would sting, I think.” Nicole gestured towards Waverly’s chest as she spoke, trying hard to calm her own heart from racing.

“Everything about you has me completely enthralled. Every word you ever sent to me. Every smile you’ve had since I’ve seen you here this evening. Every time I’ve touched you…” Nicole whispered softly as she brought her hand up to smooth it over Waverly’s cheek bone.

“The intensity of how you look at me. _In_ to me. You see everything, I just know it and I can’t…” Nicole caught her breath as she squeezed the smaller woman’s jaw gently.

“I could never let you leave without knowing that. Without ah…without letting you know that I think you see me. _Actual me._ Flaws and all and I see you. All of you that I know so far and it just makes me want to know all of the parts of you that I don’t.” Internally the red head was a little panicked that she had said too much, let too much slip out from the place within where her thoughts were buried.

She hoped her eyes told the smaller woman in front of her a different story though. How she ached for Waverly to know all of these things, whether she felt too scared to admit them or not. She put them out there anyway, fear be damned.

Nicole noticed the shine flow through the wavy haired woman’s eyes as tears began to form within the bottom lids. As she smiled, the corners of Waverly’s eyes crinkled in the cutest of ways, accentuating her jawline and cheekbones. 

“Oh my God sweetie..” she whispered quietly as she reached for the tall woman’s neck and pulled her closer, tangling her fingers through the straight, auburn locks. 

Her lips found the side of Nicole’s neck, ghosting them over her skin towards her ear. The Photographer shivered involuntarily as she felt the warm breath of Waverly’s words against her sensitive skin.

“If I were to kiss you again now Nicole – and believe me I’m dying to - I’m pretty sure I’m not going to stop. This event is about you. _For_ you. So let’s go…” Waverly kissed her earlobe gently as she grabbed at her hand, leading her back towards the staircase, smiling softly.

Nicole could have been putty in the hands of the woman leading her if she had allowed herself to be. Every word breathed in to her ear made her a little more pliable. Jesus she couldn’t stand not being near Waverly but she also knew that the smaller woman was right. This night was to Showcase her work.

Waverly lead her back down the staircase and on to the Gallery floor amongst the guests. She squeezed her hand and let go as she headed toward Jeremy and the bar. Nicole was swept away by John Henry to meet with a few others before she knew she was going to call it a night from the Showing.

……..

“You were wonderful tonight Miss Haught, they all loved you. It was considerate of you to come and we have interested Buyers for seven of your pieces so far. We have entered a slight bidding war for your main image. There are three interested Buyers vying for that one.” Mercedes couldn’t have been happier if she tried, Nicole thought.

“Thank you Mercedes. Hopefully their new homes are the homes of the humble.” The Photographer shook the Gallery Directors hand as she turned to leave, Holliday sorting out the finer details with her as they were of little interest to Nicole.

“Can I give you a ride back to where you are both staying?” Nicole asked quietly to the pair at the end of the bar top.

“I’m somewhere different to Waverly so I can sort my own out, ah..thank you anyway. And ah hey…sorry about before when I said I was, you know a little bit in love with you. Dumb, I know and –“ Nicole interrupted the nervous man by waving her hand to the side.

“Jeremy it’s perfectly okay. Plus didn’t I say I was luckier for it, anyway? You’re incredibly sweet and noble, I can see why Waverly connects with you.” If Nicole could have captured the smile Waverly sent her way at the comment, she would have kept it to herself forever and never shared it with the world, she swore it.

“Thank you for trying to make it a little less awkward, I appreciate it.” Jeremy replied with a nervous laugh.

“I’m gonna hit the road anyway. I fly out tomorrow mid morning. We should catch up before I go? I’ll call you?” Jeremy hugged Waverly and turned to Nicole.

“Absolutely amazing to meet you, Nicole.” Jeremy hugged the Photographer and she instantly stiffened as she wasn’t expecting it.

After a short moment, the taller woman relaxed in to him. Okay so he was a hugger. Got it. Not the worst thing in the world she supposed. Jeremy bid them farewell outside of the Gallery. The taller woman turned to help Waverly in to her coat.

“I’m scared to know the answer but I’m going to ask it anyway. Have you arranged your flight back?” Nicole asked Waverly, taking the nervous step of establishing what sort of timeframe they had together in the city.

“Mmm. My flight is late Sunday afternoon, I need to return for work.” The smaller woman shrugged her shoulders to straighten the heavy woollen jacket, looking towards the red head.

“I can see the cogs ticking away up there…” Waverly pushed as she pointed to Nicole’s forehead.

“Jesus between you and Holliday I would never be able to keep a thought to myself…” she mumbled as she laughed quietly, shrugging on her own coat.

Nicole cleared her throat nervously as Waverly refused to let her look away. Damnit she was so captivating Nicole wouldn’t look away regardless, she told herself.

“Well. There’s a bar just down there around the corner –“ Nicole pointed behind Waverly’s shoulder.

“- we could have a drink and work out, you know, how you would like to spend your time here?” Nicole cleared her throat again.

“Jesus. I’m sorry, I can actually say I’m not like this normally.” The Photographer let out a nervous rush of air as she raised her eyebrows at the smaller woman.

Nicole tensed in surprise as Waverly placed her hand over the centre of her chest and pressed.

“Is that because of me?” She asked, referring to the slamming of the taller woman’s heart against her chest wall. 

God Waverly had a fierce way about her. Nicole found herself a little speechless as she felt the tiny woman grab at her hand, placing it over the centre of her own chest.

The Photographer felt the repeated thump against her palm. It raced just as fast as her own. Nicole’s breath began to quicken as she found herself not being able to look away, finding it almost impossible to remove her hand and wanting nothing more than to have Waverly’s remain where it was.

“Because what you’re feeling there? That’s you Nicole. For months it has been. It never stops when I think about you.” 

“Spend the night with me –“

Nicole stopped as she surprised herself but after a moment continued. This felt right to her. They had waited long enough to meet and she wasn’t going to dance around the point and pretend that she didn’t want to spend her time with the woman from across the border.

“- seriously. And not about _that._ ” Nicole laughed.

“We don’t have to do anything Waverly, not if we’re not ready. But I’m just lying if I stand here and tell you I don’t want to spend what time we have here, together. I’ve thought about you every single day for so long that I’m not letting you walk away. I _know_ you can feel this..” Nicole gestured between them.

She held her breath as Waverly’s mouth began to curve upwards. Her smile was everything. She slid her hand slowly from Nicole’s chest, up towards the side of her neck. She caressed the silken skin of her cheek softly.

“Lead the way.” She whispered quietly.


	12. I Feel Like This is Such a Cliche...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly stared and remained still, the Photographer realising that the small Historian was contemplating her next move. Push the issue or let it go? Waverly held her ground for a moment longer before deciding to relent. She leaned forward tipping the wine bottle towards Nicole. As Nicole made a move to grab at it, Waverly moved it and grabbed her hand instead. She rose and gestured to help Nicole to her feet.

As the earliest hour past midnight approached, they sat across from each other wrapped in their long jackets to hide themselves from the cooling night.

“I feel like this is _such_ a cliché…” Nicole motioned around the pair of them with a slight laugh.

“What exactly?” Waverly replied as she looked towards the woman opposite her.

“You know, walking hand in hand through the Theatre District. Times Square…ending up in Central Park with you. It’s all so…touristy and cliched!” Nicole laughed.

“Ah I see! Is it touristy though, I wonder, to spend the night seeing those sights talking about my Thanatology Degree? Why people associate a black cloaked, scythe wielding half skeleton with coming and stealing their souls? Or… _or-“_ Waverly sat more upright.

“- discussing the finer points of how Whale migration in the winter months is so fascinating?”

“Well I mean sure, those are fine points to make. But I believe the _ultimate_ touristy thing to do, is end your night sitting in Central Park at a ridiculous hour in your evening wear, cold as all fuck because you’re sitting on the ground. In winter. _On the ground did I mention?_ Sharing a stolen bottle of wine between the pair of you from some Gallery you visited earlier.” Nicole took a drink from the neck of the bottle and passed it over to the smaller woman opposite.

“Just my opinion anyway.” Nicole shrugged.

Waverly burst out laughing and the Photographer quickly followed suit. 

“Jesus Waverly your laugh is intoxicating. You keep doing that and I’m not going to need that wine.” Nicole stared at her, completely caught up in her beauty, inside and out as she laughed again.

“God this feels good Nicole. To laugh with you. To be _here_ with you. Finally.” 

The Photographer’s breath sped up quietly as she watched Waverly speak.

The truthfulness of her hazel eyes. Her hair drifting over her shoulder, only to disappear beneath the heavy woollen jacket. Head tilted slightly to the left as she watched Nicole studying her, the curve in the corner of her mouth giving her away as she sat with her legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles.

“Waverly I could photograph you forever and never capture even half of –“ Nicole stopped herself.

Nope. Don’t say it.

So caught up in everything that was Waverly, Nicole had not meant to let the words escape her thoughts and become reality out in to the world.

“Half of what?” Waverly questioned as she leant slightly forward.

“Mm. I’m going to say half of that bottle of wine that’s ear tagged for me. Hand it over Earp.” Nicole gestured with her hand in a ‘come here’ motion, quickly diverting the conversation.

Waverly stared and remained still, the Photographer realising that the small Historian was contemplating her next move. Push the issue or let it go? Waverly held her ground for a moment longer before deciding to relent. She leaned forward tipping the wine bottle towards Nicole. As Nicole made a move to grab at it, Waverly moved it and grabbed her hand instead. She rose and gestured to help Nicole to her feet.

“If we’re drinking, we’re drinking somewhere warmer, Haught. Yours, or mine?” Waverly smiled up at her once she was upright.

“Haught huh?” 

“Well you wanna go down the _Earp_ road, game on. Where are you?” Waverly questioned in regards to her accommodation.

“Just up here around the corner.” Nicole pointed.

“Closer than mine, yours it is.” Waverly looked to her, waiting for the red heads consent.

“Mine it is..” Nicole whispered as she twisted her fingers through the smaller woman’s, leading the way to her hotel.

……..

Waverly Earp was taken. 5am, two more bottles of shared wine and enthralling life conversations on everything from failed Champs, Shaes and families, to capturing life altering shots, Bobos and Jeremy beginning his journey as the weird intern that kept staring at her. Waverly had laughed. She had giggled and swooned. She had become teary and contemplative. She had watched Nicole navigate very similar emotions. God yes she was taken.

She watched the Photographer in the warm glow of the lamps, sitting on the rug covered floor opposite her, leaning against the L shaped lounge of the hotel apartment. Changed from her exquisite evening wear to white cotton ¾ length sleep pants and New York State tee, Nicole was still just as enchanting.

Waverly had borrowed the oversized college shirt she was wearing from the taller woman and sat comfortably in it, covering her to her knees as they conversed in to the early hours.

Nicole’s quiet laugh brought her back from her thoughts. 

“Okay Earp. We’re out of wine. Your choice of beer, coffee, beer, water or beer?” She raised her eyebrows at the tiny woman.

Waverly knew what she wanted as her desire took over and it wasn’t any of the things Nicole had offered. Too much wine, whiskey and want had found Waverly crawling over to where she sat, as Nicole watched her silently.

Waverly took note of the taller woman’s movements as she placed the wine glass slowly off to the side, freeing up her hands as she continued to watch Waverly make her way towards her. Nicole uncrossed her legs and stretched them out, reaching for the smaller woman’s hand to guide her forward.

Nicole gripped and pulled forward gently, Waverly coming up fully on her knees to straddle either side of the thighs of the woman below her. She involuntarily smiled at the tiny sound that broke away from Nicole’s throat as she lowered herself on to her lap.

“Hi…” she breathed quietly as she looked down in to Nicole’s wine shined eyes, pushing her auburn hair behind her ear, away from her jawline.

She felt the woman below her shiver at the action, the heated embers inside Waverly beginning to be stoked at the response. 

“Hey…” the Photographer whispered back, her eyes never leaving Waverly’s.

Waverly hummed quietly as she felt Nicole’s warm hands situate themselves on her upper thighs, her thumbs gently rubbing the tanned skin outwards from side to side. Nicole squeezed the muscles underneath her hands, smiling as Waverly stiffened slightly.

Waverly didn’t want to speak.

She leant down, hand cupping underneath the strong jaw of the red head below her, Nicole’s neck muscles tightening as she extended upwards to meet her. 

Waverly’s lips met the warmth of Nicole’s beautifully. She kissed her softly as her top lip sat just above Nicole’s, the woman below taking her bottom lip and gently sucking on it. Waverly groaned quietly as she felt the red heads bottom teeth scrape gently against her lip as she sucked on it, her tongue joining in as she stroked it over the sensitive skin.

The small woman’s heart began to pound in her chest at the feel of Nicole’s tongue against her lips. She released and came back down again, this time finding Nicole’s bottom lip first. Waverly bit down gently as she sucked it in to her mouth, rolling her tongue repeatedly with the motion.

Nicole reacted gorgeously as she tried to suck in a sharp breath, her hands clamping a little tighter on Waverly’s thighs. The smaller woman felt the lightning bolt of electricity pulse through her at the involuntary movement of Nicole’s hips beneath her as she continued to manipulate her bottom lip with her teeth and tongue.

The game of cat and mouse continued as Waverly relented and let Nicole take the wheel. She parted her lips willingly and groaned loudly in to the red heads mouth as she felt her tongue find her own. The Photographer deepened the kiss immediately as Waverly felt her sit more upright, rocking the smaller woman back slightly. 

Her brain was consumed with nothing other than the hands moving up her thighs, underneath the oversized shirt. The tongue in her mouth dancing back and forth, up and over her own in the most unbelievable ways. The teeth gently biting at her swollen lip, eliciting more and more needy, guttural sounds from her throat. 

Nicole hissed quietly and moaned as Waverly dug her nails in to the nape of her neck, bringing her mouth closer to her still. The small woman’s body responding to the hands that had made their way over her hips to the sides of her waist, underneath the shirt. She arched forward in to them and was rewarded when Nicole applied more pressure and her hips rose a second time to meet Waverly at her core.

Waverly was lost as she listened to the sounds escaping Nicole at her touch, her tongue. The pressure of her fingers at her throat. Their kisses impossibly deep and wanting as Waverly began to wonder if Nicole could feel her arousal against her yet.

As Waverly’s hand moved down and found the hem of Nicole’s tee, it didn’t take much to lift it and run her nails against the pale stomach underneath. She sucked the red heads tongue in to her mouth deeper and Nicole responded by gripping at her waist harder and pushing her body downwards in to her hips. Waverly pulled back and gasped, knowing her nails would leave trails of welts against the alabaster skin beneath them.

The Photographer pulled back, removing her left hand from under the oversized shirt and placing it gently over Waverly’s mouth.

“Waverly wait, wait, wait, wait…” she huffed out breathlessly with her eyes still closed.

The small Historian breathed heavily as her hand came up to grab at Nicole’s, pulling it away from her lips to kiss it softly. She waited for Nicole to process and speak when she was ready.

“I don’t want to do this…” Nicole opened her eyes and looked up at Waverly.

“I mean –“ She shook her head as she took a heavy breath.

“- shit. I _want_ to do this. God…believe me I want to. But just…not like this. Not drunk. I…hmm.” Nicole went quiet as she caught her breath.

Waverly sat back on her heels and thought about it as she kept a hold of Nicole’s hand. Did she want to be doing this while her head was spinning from too much wine and whiskey? The heat inside of her was at the point of boiling over and she could feel it was similar for the woman below her but she knew Nicole was right. When it came down to it, she didn’t want the first time they were with each other to be so alcohol fuelled. 

“Okay.” Waverly whispered with a calming smile.

“You’re right, I don’t want to like this either.” 

Nicole squeezed her thigh as Waverly shifted slightly on top of her. She groaned quietly and Waverly laughed.

“Guess I better get off here then, hey?” Waverly giggled again.

“As much as I don’t want you to, it’s probably safer for both of us. I’m having a hard time keeping my hands still Earp.” Waverly put her head back as she huffed out a heavy sigh at the comment, releasing her knees and picking herself up off the taller woman’s lap.

As she went to make her way back across the rug on the floor, Nicole grabbed at her waist and gently pulled at her. Nicole turned whilst she still had a hold of the smaller woman and began pulling the cushions from the couch. She built them up around the pair and then patted the space beside her, smiling.

“Suns coming up and we’re falling asleep drunk, in a pillow fort?” Waverly questioned her as she cocked an eyebrow in her direction.

“Pillow fort? What pillow fort? This is Chateau de Haught thank you and you’re lucky I’m even letting you enter.” The Photographer laughed as she held out her hand.

Waverly couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her as she let Nicole escort her in to the middle of the cushion barriers, curling a strong, alabaster toned arm around her mid section. Waverly naturally curled in to her, lower back pressed against the Photographers hips as she heard her intake of air at the connection.

Nicole planted soft, sweet kisses over the shirt clinging to her shoulders, the bare skin of the back of her neck and the side of her jaw as she drifted off in to sleep.

“Haught?” Waverly said quietly.

“Mmm?” Nicole hummed.

“It’s a damn pillow fort.” Sleepily spoken, Waverly heard the soft, quiet laugh of the beautiful woman holding her protectively as she drifted off.

……..

Nicole ventured out a few hours later to get them both brunch. Still a little early for lunch but they had definitely missed breakfast. With Waverly still asleep surrounded by a mountain of cushions, Nicole had headed to the café on the corner for Bagels, coffee and juice. As she returned to the room and placed the food down on the table she turned to look at the sleeping woman.

Lying on her side, the natural curve of her waist underneath the large shirt ignited a spark within the tall woman. Nicole ached for Waverly as she admired her. Argh it had _killed_ her the few hours before, pulling away and having them both make the decision to go no further. Nicole’s body vibrated, butterflies appeared in the pit of her stomach as she thought about their shared kisses. Their roaming hands. The completely natural movement of their hips in to each other.

“Jesus Haught you’re screwed…” Nicole whispered to herself as she smiled, remembering how her last name sounded escaping the lips of Waverly.

It had been such a perfect night as they met. Walked hand in hand across the city, sat with each other and drank. Laughed. Cried. Extended the emotional boundaries between each other until Nicole had never felt so comfortable in all of her life. Whatever part of her Waverly had woken, it was one that she never thought would return. The scars of the Photographers past becoming more and more of exactly that. Her past.

The auburn haired woman heard the groan before she saw her, hidden behind the wall of cushions. Nicole smiled widely and chuckled as she grabbed for the coffee cup and bag of bagels.

“For you.” Nicole handed the hung over woman the coffee.

“There is a glass of water to your left and when you’re ready, bagels in the bag.” Nicole sat down and crossed her legs as she sipped at her own strong brew.

“Noooooo…” Waverly whispered quietly as she held the side of her head.

“How are you up and functioning? Ugh this is balls.” The smaller woman winced as she grabbed at the coffee cup.

“Coffee before water huh, Earp?” Nicole laughed.

“Seriously Haught. Don’t make me jump over this fort and kick your ass.” She smiled and Nicole swooned. 

Even hung over, messy haired and barely together with her thoughts, Waverly Earp was amazing and Nicole had a plan.

“Okay Ninja Warrior here’s the deal. You eat, you drink, you shower. Get yourself up and about. I hope you don’t mind but your phone kept ringing before and it was Jeremy so I picked it up. His flight has been delayed three hours.”

“Damnit I need to go see him! Why did you let me sleep?!” Waverly looked at her surprised.

“Relax like I said he’s been delayed. Plenty of time.” Nicole smiled at the small woman.

“Then I will pick you up and we’re going to have dinner. Sound okay?” The red head waited for the words to compute with the hung over Historian.

“Hmm. This would be a time where I’m happy for you to take control. Honestly my brain _will_ catch up Nicole. Promise.” She laughed quietly and then winced as she held her head.

“Okay no coffee. Where is the water?” 

“Behind you.” Nicole got up and leant over as she kissed her forehead gently, the smell of coconut shampoo invading her senses.

“Take your time, I have to call my Manager.” Nicole walked out on to the balcony with her coffee and phone, leaving the beautiful woman to get her bearings and get ready.

……..

“So. Picking me up at six?” The smaller woman asked as she slowly placed her hands around the back of Nicole’s neck.

“Six. I’ll be downstairs waiting. We did fancy last night so this evening just dress…well, _you.”_ Nicole kissed her softly on the lips, smiling against her as Waverly sighed.

“Mmm okay I have to goooooo…” Waverly hummed against her lips, not wanting to pull away.

As much as the Photographer didn’t want to, she pushed the smaller woman gently by the hips towards the door.

“Go, say goodbye to your friend. I’ll be there at six, promise. I can’t wait.” Nicole kissed her gently again and forced herself to pull away when she immediately wanted to deepen it.

“Noooo…” Waverly whispered quietly as she felt the need rise within to deepen it as well.

“Uh-uh. Go see Jeremy before I don’t let you leave at all. Shit.” Nicole pushed her again gently as she made her way out of the hotel room.

“Six.” Waverly smiled and Nicole’s heart leapt.

“Six.” Nicole waved and leant against the doorframe, watching the woman that had taken her breath with her, enter the lift.

As Nicole made herself another coffee she couldn’t help but smile at the fact that for the first time in she didn’t even know how long, she had taken control of something and never over thought any of it. She knew what she wanted and she didn’t question it, just went for it.

Nicole only ever had that kind of confidence with her work. She always thought she was too disconnected from the wider world to ever participate in it in such a guided, headstrong way.

“God damn Earp. I think you might be helping to alter more than I thought…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s coming, I promise 😏


	13. Not a Damn Chance...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re not going to tell me if you did, are you?” Jeremy questioned the small woman as she sipped at her black coffee.
> 
> She smiled.
> 
> “No, Jeremy. Not a damn chance.” Waverly continued to smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas to each and every one of you beautiful humans. Enjoy 🎄

“You’re not going to tell me if you did, are you?” Jeremy questioned the small woman as she sipped at her black coffee.

She smiled.

“No, Jeremy. Not a damn chance.” Waverly continued to smile.

“Okay, okay but I still stand by what I said last night. You two _definitely_ light each other up. Look at you Waverly! Hung over and in desperate need of more coffee and you still manage to shine brighter than half of this city.”

“If you could honestly just find me her, in the form of a very well put together male specimen, I would be most grateful.” Jeremy bowed towards her jokingly as they both laughed.

“Honestly though Waverly, look at you. When I first started in my position you used to be…so reserved. Private. You never made eye contact with anyone unless you had to speak to them or meet with them for work and you kept _you_ to yourself. So guarded and hostile. I was more afraid of you, than the Curator.” He laughed nervously as his eyes squinted slightly.

“I keep telling you he isn’t scary Jeremy but you won’t believe me…”

“Well. That aside, your transformation has been incredible. Do you, do you feel it at all?” The darker man questioned.

“If I’m truthful, of course. I don’t dwell on my past as much as I used to. I’ve invited you in to my life. I’ve allowed space for Nicole…I guess I’m even okay with certain interactions with others. I smile more and I feel more…at ease with things I guess you could say. She’s pretty amazing Jer, I won’t deny it. This ripple effect started because of her, simple.” Waverly had meant every single word that left her lips. 

She didn’t know how far the ripple effect would reach and she was happy to take the baby steps she had been taking but there was no denying, Nicole had thrown the first stone in to the pond to make them begin.

“Oh my God you so did, didn’t you?” Jeremy pushed again jokingly.

“Not a damn chance Jeremy!” Waverly called behind herself as she went to grab another coffee, unable to hide the glowing grin.

As the two friends parted at the departure gate, Waverly couldn’t have thanked him enough for coming to her in Manhattan. She had never experienced what it was like to genuinely have someone at her side just because they valued who she was as a person. She had thought it was something that was shared between Wynonna and herself however it couldn’t have been because she just up and left. No word, no warning. Just left. Waverly pushed the thoughts aside as she waved Jeremy off with the promise of coffee and catch ups Monday morning in her office.

As the small Historian made her way towards the airport exit, she couldn’t keep her mind from wandering to her body pressed against the Photographers before the sun had come up earlier that day. Her fingernails on alabaster, leaving welts and feeling the jolt run through her at the sounds she could bring forth from Nicole. Waverly wanted her so badly it hurt. _All_ of her. Every part of her body and her mind that made her who she was, Waverly needed to know. There wasn’t long left before she would find herself standing in the same airport to fly back to Ottawa, her heart sinking at the thought. As she hailed the cab to go back to her hotel, she decided she didn’t want to think about it until the next day when she had to. The clock was ticking and she needed to get ready for dinner.

……..

Waverly walked out of her hotel entrance as the Sun was still hanging low in the sky. The smile on Nicole’s face could not have been bigger as she watched the tiny woman walk towards her. Tight, washed out blue jeans and dark red top, hidden under a knee length black coat with black boots halfway up her calves, Waverly was flawless.

“You look amazing Waverly.” Nicole breathed out as she took the smaller woman’s hands in her own and leant in to kiss her cheek softly. 

“You look pretty amazing yourself Nicole.” Waverly replied as she kissed her on the opposite cheek in return.

The Photographer must have changed her outfit half a dozen times, before she had settled on black denim jeans, rips in one thigh and one knee with a white button up, collared shirt and grey thigh length woollen coat. Black scarf and black boots, it took almost all afternoon for Nicole to stop and just pick the damn outfit.

“Shall we?” Nicole held open the cab door and waited for Waverly to hop in.

She gave the driver her directions and sat back, looking to her side at the smaller woman.

“This is nice and simple Earp. Pizza, somewhere I want to show you and casual. I would consider last night a date, wouldn’t you?” Nicole questioned her with a smile.

“Definitely a date. A drunken one that ended with us in a pillow fort but a date none the less.” Waverly laughed quietly.

“Chateau de Haught does not appreciate your derisive comment.” Nicole raised her eyebrows at the Historian who smiled back as she leant her head against the headrest adorably.

“Okay so simple. Casual. I like it.” Waverly commented as she reached for the auburn haired woman’s hand, clasping it between both of hers as her thumb ran back and forth over Nicole’s knuckles.

The two women chatted quietly in the back of the cab as they made their way across town, laughing with each other and at times, shamelessly flirting with the other. Nicole had never felt so free with herself. With another. The slightly shell shocked feeling was returning.

Before it had time to settle in, they had reached their destination and Nicole was out and holding the door for Waverly to exit. Just across from where Nicole wanted to take the darker haired woman, she stopped to grab them two slices of pizza and two beers. 

“Pizza. Beer. You’re all set Earp. Let’s go.” The Photographer smiled behind herself as she began across the road, waiting for Waverly to follow. 

Nicole led her through an iron archway towards the greener area further in. Waverly looked around, trying to get her bearings as she followed the taller woman. Eventually Nicole led her through to a slightly more open area. Beautiful plants, vines and pots placed everywhere, the concrete walls on either side hidden by vine and creepers the entire length of the large area. Birdhouses, warm glowing fairy lights and park benches placed randomly, yet in such a way as to look like they were exactly where they needed to be. It was stunning and so unexpected for the middle of a concrete, hardened city. Nicole took her hand, leading her to the park bench situated beneath an iron arch, warm fairy lights strewn above to look like scattered stars in the early evening sky.

Waverly looked around, awe struck at the finer details when she really began to take notice. Nicole cleared her throat after a swig of beer and spoke to the smaller woman beside her.

“This place is a community project that’s been going since the late seventies. What started out as a tiny little garden with two iron benches and a few birdhouses, has turned in to this.” Nicole gestured around them as she smiled warmly.

“What you can see is the work of about 30 volunteers. This place has become a community garden and small place of worship for those in this area that have lost loved ones. Some arrive to place more birdhouses, with shredded notes inside to the ones they have lost, for the birds to use as nesting material. Others come to place small plants with plaques and messages of love to those that have been taken from them too soon. I’ve taken many photos here…” Nicole went quiet as she looked around, thinking back to those that had so kindly let her photograph them missing their loved ones, on her visits. 

“You have something here, don’t you?” Waverly asked. 

Nicole didn’t bother questioning how on earth Waverly would even know that, it just seemed to be the way of things that they could read each other so well. Nicole found a small, unsure smile as she took Waverly by the hand, leading her towards the back right hand corner of the garden. 

“He used to tell me I was as unique as a snowflake. That I would change the way people viewed the world.” Nicole went quiet as she walked.

The neutral toned woman stood still in front of the tiny row of birdhouses. She opened her jacket and produced an unopened bottle of beer, placing it beside an intricately carved, little blue birdhouse, its three main walls carved out to look like snowflakes. 

“That’s why you have a snowflake tattooed on your hand.” Waverly slid her arm around the taller woman’s waist, thankful that she had met such a beautiful soul and had the chance to watch her begin to heal.

“You don’t miss much, do you?” Nicole replied quietly with a small laugh. 

“Even before I felt the urge to put this here…I just always loved this place Waverly. The entire concept. How something can so naturally, just _come to be something else._ What started as an idea, to make a tiny little garden for the people in these apartment blocks to enjoy, has morphed in to a place that speaks of more than just enjoyment. It speaks of love, loss, pain. The overwhelming joy of having lost but knowing that you can still come to somewhere like this and talk to them. In some way, I don’t know… _be_ with them. The handful of people that started this thing had no idea what it would change in to. No idea what it would come to mean to people outside of these two apartment blocks. How incredible is that?” Nicole looked to the smaller woman beside her, raising her eyebrows in surprise when Waverly pulled her down in to a hard kiss.

Without thinking, her arms shot up to wrap around the smaller woman’s neck, pulling her closer. As their cold noses rubbed against each other, their warm breaths released white plumes in to the air when they parted and came back together. The more Nicole kissed her, the more she wanted her. The feel of Waverly’s tongue pushing and pulling with her own was too much for where they were, when Nicole couldn’t possibly have any more of her. She broke away, leaning her forehead against the tiny woman’s, breathing heavily when Waverly suddenly spoke.

“You’re just incredible Nicole. _Jesus_ you talk like that and I just…I just lose my fucking mind around you! There is so much passion hidden underneath here-“ Waverly placed her hand against the taller woman’s chest.

“- and all I want to do is bring it to the surface with you. Coax it out of you slowly so you can see just how beautiful it all is.” Waverly lowered her hand as she tilted her head back to kiss Nicole’s forehead. 

Nicole sucked in a sharp breath as she stood back, putting a little space between them. 

“You keep talking to _me_ like that Waverly and we’re both going to get ourselves in to trouble.” Nicole looked down to the side, saying her silent goodbye to her father until her next visit to the garden.

She took Waverly by the hand, leading her through the rest of the wonderful space as she pointed out all the different hidden gems the community garden had to offer.

Waverly began to shiver slightly and Nicole knew it was time to hail a cab and get out of the elements.

“Yours, or mine?” Nicole questioned the small Historian.

“Again yours is closer.”

“Mine it is.” Nicole smiled as she opened the cab door for her, sliding in afterwards.

……..

Nicole handed Waverly the beer after she had taken the cap off for her. She clinked her own bottle against it and they drank. 

“I see you have dismantled your Chateau?” Waverly smirked.

“I will have you know, the housemaids destroyed it today. I went for coffee and came back and boom, back on the lounge.” Nicole laughed quietly.

Waverly laughed as she drank from the cold beer bottle in her hand.

“I may need to borrow your shirt again..”

“Oh yeah of course, come with me.”

Waverly followed the Photographer down the hall and through a door to the left. She caught her breath a little as she looked out at the view. Large casement windows stretched from shoulder height to the ceiling, allowing massive amounts of natural light to enter the space in the day time and enough moonlight to illuminate the room in the evenings. The king sized bed lived underneath the large windows against the wall, soft lamps on each bedside table had been turned on earlier, she assumed, for when Nicole returned. 

“Wow.” Waverly breathed out.

“Please don’t judge me on this space. I’m a pretty simple person normally, I just really like natural light so when I visit Manhattan, I always stay here.” Nicole said sheepishly.

“No judgement at all, Haught. It’s breathtaking. I can imagine the light in here being fantastic during the day.” Waverly continued to stare at the large windows.

“Here.” Nicole said quietly beside her, as Waverly looked down to see the shirt offered.

“Thank you.”

Nicole squeezed her hand gently and smiled as she went to exit the room, giving Waverly the privacy to change.

Waverly quickly reached out her arm behind herself and caught the hip of the taller woman walking away, halting her movement.

“Nicole…”

“Waverly.”

“Don’t you dare go…”

……..

The Photographer watched as Waverly turned, dropping the borrowed shirt to the floor. Her fingers found the belt loops in Nicole’s jeans and hooked through them, pulling her back towards the smaller body in front of her. Nicole felt her heart rate instantly rise as her hands found Waverly’s waist, her palms pressing against the flat of her hard stomach.

The smaller woman reached her hands up, trailing her fingertips along Nicole’s jaw as she circled them around to the back of her neck. The Photographer felt herself shiver at the light touches, following Waverly’s lead as she felt her hands guiding her down to her waiting mouth. 

Nicole kissed her slowly, easily, like she had been granted endless time in their private little world. They had waited so, so long and be damned if she was going to rush it. Waverly sighed in to her mouth as she lazily flicked her tongue over her lip, waiting for the smaller woman to let her in. Waverly gripped a little tighter at the back of her neck when she finally did, at the feel of Nicole’s tongue over her own.

Deep and slow, they stayed in the effortless rhythm for long moments, Nicole moaning quietly at the feel of Waverly’s warm skin under her hands as she lifted the red top away from her belt line. 

“Take if off…” the small woman whispered breathlessly and Nicole needed little more encouragement.

As her tongue made lazy patterns of give and take with the woman below her, Nicole lifted the top up and away from Waverly’s tanned skin, breaking the kiss to pull it over her head and toss it aside. Nicole watched as Waverly grabbed at her hands, pulling them around behind her so that they were pressed against her strong back. She squeezed the hardened muscles under her hands and gasped when she felt Waverly begin to kiss the side of her neck. 

Slow, purposeful movements with her teeth and tongue, sucking the skin in to her mouth to bite down gently, only to soothe it afterwards with long licks had Nicole in another world, as she kept her head tilted back for her. Soon enough, she relented and gave up what control she was using, dragging her slender fingertips over warm, tanned skin to grasp and tangle through the wavy locks. Waverly growled a little, deep in her throat as Nicole roughly pulled at her to kiss her, moving her hips back a little as the smaller woman began to unbutton her shirt.

Splayed open, Waverly sighed loudly as she ran her hands across alabaster skin through the open shirt, upwards over light grey silk towards jutting collarbones and strong, muscular neck. Nicole followed as Waverly kissed her, walking them backwards to the edge of the bed. Taking off and tossing her shirt, the Photographer effortlessly picked up the smaller woman and placed her in the centre of the bed. 

The heat creeping through Nicole’s muscles and mid section was intensifying moment by moment as Waverly grabbed at her and pulled her over until she was hovering above the smaller woman. She rose to kiss her slowly as her back curved, finding Nicole’s hand and moving it behind herself, mid way up. The Photographer took the cue and undid the clasp, pulling the silky garment away and to the side of the bed as Waverly found hers and did the same.

“Nicole tell me how long you’ve thought about this…” Waverly, breathless and seductive in the red heads ear as she began to undo the belt around her hips.

“Months Waverly. Fucking _months…”_ Nicole could barely speak as she undid the jeans on the woman below her, sliding them down her legs and off, on to the floor as Waverly did the same with the leather belt in her hand.

Waverly groaned in the most exquisite way as Nicole’s lips found the taut skin of her neck. The red head reached up with her other hand, clasping to the opposite side as she pulled towards herself, applying more pressure as she sucked the tan skin into her mouth. She let go before she left a mark, just in case, when Waverly grabbed at her jaw. Bringing Nicole back to centre, Waverly kissed her so deeply it sent waves of pleasure through the taller woman. 

Deep, slow and controlled Waverly was in command. She set the pace, she set the rhythm and she refused to let either of them get carried away with it by speeding up or becoming a little rougher. It was the most seductive thing Nicole thought she might have ever experienced. She had never relinquished control in such a complete way before. She was putty in Waverly’s hands and she didn’t mind it at all as each stroke and movement she met with her own. Each nip and pull she met equally. The fire in her was almost at inferno point when she found her hips beginning to move against the woman below her.

“Wait Waverly, wait…these have to go.” Breathless and hurried, it took everything she had to stop, so she could rid herself of her jeans.

The small woman below her sighed happily as Nicole lowered herself back down, tanned meeting alabaster with nothing more than grey and black silk between their hips. 

Long moments were spent on perfectly dusk coloured nipples as Nicole lost herself in the feel of them underneath her tongue, her fingertips, her lips. Needy, breathy moans escaped Waverly as her back began to curve a little more moment by moment, trying to gain more contact with the woman above her. With each movement of her thigh, the Photographer stoked the fires within Waverly as she made contact with her core, feeling her through the thin piece of silk, more and more aroused. 

Hands tousled in red hair, moans escaped open mouths and kisses and bites were left on skin. Nicole was so lost in the woman below her, she didn’t know if she would ever recover. She didn’t fucking care. She surfaced to make her way back to Waverly’s wanting mouth.

No longer slow, no longer controlled, the pair consumed each other with a raw need like nothing else as Nicole’s thigh continued to drive the smaller woman wild, moans barely being able to escape filled mouths. Nicole broke contact breathlessly when she couldn’t take any more of it.

“Jesus Waverly tell me I can…” The red head pleaded with her, almost at the edge of what she could handle. 

Wanting hazel eyes watched lust filled brown for a moment before they closed, as Waverly tilted her head back smiling, reaching for Nicole’s hand. Underneath tanned fingers, she was guided down to the flimsy piece of silk between them. 

“God yes…” she breathed and it was all Nicole needed.

Ripped off in want and discarded quickly, Nicole’s mouth met Waverly’s, seductive moans escaping both of them at the feel of bare skin on wet, further down.

“Fuck Waverly…” The red head huffed out as she felt her, slick against the skin of her thigh.

She knew she had never wanted someone so badly in all of her life, as Waverly pushed her hand down between them. 

“I need you Nicole, just touch me already..”

Waverly responded to Nicole’s touch in the sexiest of ways. Her back arched gracefully, with little effort, as the Photographers fingertips slid over her centre, gathering more of her arousal with each pass as she moved slowly, savouring what they had both been waiting so many months for. She circled the bundle of nerves lightly with each stroke as she dipped down repeatedly in to more moisture. 

“Nicole…fuck…” Waverly breathed, unable to stand the pace but Nicole was now in command and reminded herself she didn’t want to rush it.

She had her own way of slow and controlled as the long moments passed. Repeated soft, circular patterns over the smaller woman’s nerve filled centre, a little more pressure each time. Sliding down in long, languid movements to turn and glide her fingers back towards the top. Nicole found her breaths becoming shorter, heavier. Her own centre dripping at the feel of Waverly, silken, smooth and wet beneath her fingers. Wanting her. _Craving_ her with a rawness beyond anything else.

“Nicole I swear to God you can’t keep doing –“ Waverly cried out longingly and curved upwards in a steady arch as Nicole caught her off guard, entering her slowly with two fingers.

Nicole let the guttural moan escape her throat at the feel of all of the woman below her, at the sounds that had filled the room as she entered her for the first time. Long, metered, lazy strokes and curled fingers deep within had Waverly’s hips rising in rhythm to meet Nicole’s expert hand. As she entered her time and again, the Photographer couldn’t help but watch her in all of her ecstasy.

Rising further to meet her mouth, Nicole took over Waverly’s tongue, sucking on it gently, rolling it around with her own, unhurried and in time with her movements below. Nicole smiled against her lips as she felt the thighs of the woman below her begin to gently quiver. She withdrew her fingers gently and began her original strokes up and over her centre to the nerve filled bud above.

“Nicole…” Waverly began to arch as the red head started to switch from her original movements, to entering her repeatedly. All so painfully lazy and slow that it appeared neither of them could handle it. 

Nicole kissed her steady and deep as she entered Waverly the final few times, curving her fingers upwards, feeling her tighten around them and knowing she was ready. Nicole finally withdrew and stroked upwards and over, long and measured until the bundle of nerves at Waverly’s centre gave way and she came undone beneath her.

Her back arched in to the woman above her as she wrapped her arms around Nicole’s shoulders and pulled her impossibly close, flexing against her beautiful skin. Her mouth opened for her to cry out. Waverly’s muscles tightened and relaxed repeatedly, as her legs came up and bent at the knees. Nicole kissed the side of her neck and jaw so softly as she gently glided over her, stroking her down from her high as Waverly pulsed beneath her fingertips.

The Photographer continued to pepper the smaller woman with gentle kisses as they remained silent, not a sound filling the air except for their heavy breathing. She watched intently as the sweat dried on the magnificent tanned skin and goosebumps began to form where she lightly trailed her fingertips. 

“Nicole I’ve never…I’ve never felt so connected to someone…ever.” She looked up as Waverly whispered to her quietly.

The Photographer smiled at her.

“Come here.” Waverly whispered as she pulled Nicole upwards until she could be curled in to her strong arms.

How they both knew was anyone’s guess but speaking in that moment they were aware, was a pointless exercise. Nicole wrapped around Waverly instead, allowing the small, gorgeous soul to tangle her limbs with her own. Waverly fell to sleep soon after as Nicole heard the relaxation of her breathing rhythm. 

“Jesus Waverly you are _definitely_ something else…” Nicole was in…what was she in, exactly?


	14. So...What Happens Now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So…what happens now?” Waverly looked up at the Photographer, half standing behind her with a protective arm wrapped around her waist, hand resting on the small hip bone.

Nicole folded the crisp, white paper and placed it in the hotel envelope. She was certain. Tucked safely under a shirt in her travel bag, the red head made her way back to the king sized bed. Raising her camera quietly, she waited for the ripple of the light through the windows as the clouds passed overhead. As the muted light filtered through the dark cloud and the tint of the window, Nicole snapped as it bounced at just the right angle off of Waverly’s exposed hip.

Only half covered by the plain white sheet, hair wavy and tangled across her shoulders and back, she was a vision. The white sheets, the dark tanned skin against the grey cold of the morning through the windows…they all spoke of the quiet, powerful beauty that was contained within the small but mighty Historian. The Survivor. The quiet achiever. The Conqueror.

Nicole placed the camera down as Waverly stirred and turned, looking for the warmth of the tall woman at the end of the bed.

“Waverly Earp you are so beautiful when you sleep…” Nicole whispered quietly to the other woman.

“God I love how you say my name…” Waverly mumbled sweetly back, a smile covering her lips in the most magical of ways as she began to stretch out her lithe body.

“We have time for a later breakfast before you have to fly, if you like?”

“Urgh don’t remind me I have to do that today Haught!” Waverly grumbled as she threw the pillow over her face.

Nicole huffed out a small laugh as she crawled towards the woman under half of the bed sheet. Removing the pillow, the taller woman kissed her neck slowly as her teeth found skin, her tongue found her pulse. She smiled against her neck as she felt Waverly gasp and her back come slightly off the mattress as a response.

“I had to photograph you while you slept Waverly. You’re entirely elegant in this light…” Nicole breathed.

“Jesus Christ Nicole, when you talk to me like that…” the woman below her moaned back.

Waverly’s hand tangled through her red hair as she pushed Nicole further in to her neck, forcing her to bite harder. Nicole knew she would leave a mark and sensed Waverly knew as well however she kept her pressed there, as if allowing it to happen. The Photographer took the queue and bit hard, sucking the skin in through her teeth as she followed the arching movement of Waverly’s body beneath her.

Waverly grabbed at her hand and pushed it downwards between her legs, Nicole gasping at how aroused she already seemed to be.

The red head pulled away from the smaller woman’s neck, licking at the purpling skin as she kissed her way over collarbones, breasts and ribs on her journey to jutting hip bones. Nicole began to enter Waverly as her tongue drew wet patterns over silky hips, moving naturally inwards to the dip of the Historians abdomen. Waverley rose below her in smooth rhythm as she pushed her head further down, gasping loudly as Nicole took hold of her centre and claimed her.

The Photographer took her to the edge and back slowly, before finally taking her over, in the grey light of the clouded morning. Graceful and achingly soft, Waverly let go beneath her, holding Nicole against her body with her strong legs as she contracted and flexed. A short while later, calmed and hand under chin, Waverly guided the red head upwards and let her run sweet kisses over her skin on her journey, as Waverly hummed quietly under her hands.

“I get the feeling you don’t want me to?” Waverly questioned the taller woman as they lay together in the cloudy light, a tangled work of art, alabaster and honey.

Nicole’s body tensed at the question, if only for a short moment, as her hand stopped its movements over Waverly’s skin. She let out a pensive breath.

……..

Waverly felt the tension ripple through the beautiful body entwined with her own when she asked her question. Nicole let out a long breath as Waverly felt her lean back a little, creating a small pocket of space.

Damnit how the small woman craved her, made all the more urgent as she thought about the way Nicole had claimed her body the night before and again in the light of the colder day. Gentle, respectful, full of want and raw honesty, it was beyond anything Waverly had ever experienced. 

Nicole had seduced her mind over weeks and months and in the course of the previous night and early morning, had then seduced her body. In doing so she had managed to leave Waverly an awe struck mass of tingling nerves, with an insatiable want for her hands and her mouth. The Photographers intense, kind eyes upon her body and her beautiful mind imagining the things she wanted to do to her. Jesus she drove her insane in all of the right ways.

Waverly already had the fierce attraction to the taller woman without any of the events of the last two nights happening, since they had met. All of her experiences with Nicole over the months bundled together though…she honestly had never wanted someone so much in all of her life. To touch her, taste her against her lips. Feel her warmth wrapped around her as she unravelled and allowed Waverly to coax her over the edge. She felt like Nicole craved these things just as much however was very hesitant. So Waverly had asked. The darker haired woman waited patiently for Nicole to answer her as she ran her fingertips over her arm. She was rewarded a small while later.

Nicole cleared her throat softly and spoke.

“It’s not that I don’t want to Waverly. More than anything in this world I want to. But…” she sighed.

“I don’t share that part of myself. Jesus I haven’t shared that part of myself since I was in my early 20’s, I think?” Nicole sat up a little higher.

“Listen, I bounced through a lot of homes after my parents were gone. Six years worth of them until I could walk away at 17. I had learnt to hide _everything_ by then. All of it. But ah…well for a few years I accepted in return, what I had offered when it came to sex. Is that how you would say it, I wonder?” Nicole laughed quietly, Waverly seeing she was trying to break the tension within herself at providing her honest answer.

“Ah, anyway. Anyway.” She cleared her throat again, raising her eyebrows.

“I was so distant and shut off that I didn’t find any enjoyment in what I was doing. Physical enjoyment, yeah sure! I mean…you push the right buttons and you push them long enough, you will elicit the appropriate reactions.” Nicole watched Waverly as she spoke, the smaller woman assuming, to gauge her reaction. 

Waverly listened intently, understanding more and more from the Photographers past, why she had become a certain version of herself. 

A quiet part of Waverly, so happy that she was witnessing the subtle changes in the woman beside her from that space, watching as she welcomed the colour back in to her grey scale world.

“But I thought…urgh I don’t know. That it wasn’t fair? Not fair on myself or the people I was with to be so…disconnected when they were fully committed to being in the moment and sharing some sort of…well _experience_ I guess. One that I just didn’t want to be a part of. So I no longer was.” Nicole shrugged as she looked away. 

Waverly waited. She knew the Photographer wasn’t finished.

“I was happy to give, if the moment suited but wasn’t happy to receive. I didn’t want anyone to have that part of me anymore. I didn’t want to possibly have to be fake and pretend I was experiencing some sort of connection when I actually wasn’t. A lot of people walked away, most women not interested in that kind of set up and for me, that was okay. Well…it _used_ to be..” Nicole looked at her and shrugged again, trying to play her explanation off as no big deal when Waverly knew that it was the opposite. 

Nicole would never have shared that truth with anyone, ever. Waverly knew that and wasn’t foolish enough to think it was no big deal. How incredibly lucky she felt that Nicole had opened up to her, felt of Waverly that she was important enough in her world to do so. _Safe_ enough. 

Waverly wanted to kiss her. With reckless abandon, with passion, with calm and quiet. She wanted to wrap Nicole up and keep her warm, safe and loved so that she knew she was beyond _enough_ as a person. As a human being. That they both were, but Waverly waited. She waited for Nicole and she would continue to wait, until she reached out to her again. 

Soon enough, Nicole spoke as she looked away out in to the grey morning. It was so quiet and small but the words powerful and altering for both of them.

“God if it was ever to be anyone, Waves, it would always be you...”

Nicole caught her eyes when she looked back as she leant over towards the smaller woman. Ghosting her lips against the underside of her jaw, Waverly shivered at the use of the nickname and the feeling in her chest that proceeded it. 

“Just not yet.” Nicole whispered. 

And that was okay. Not being ready was perfectly okay. Though she never said it, Waverly knew she would wait an entire fucking lifetime if it meant that when Nicole was ready, that experience, that _connection_ , was with no one else but her.

……..

“So…what happens now?” Waverly looked up at the Photographer, half standing behind her with a protective arm wrapped around her waist, hand resting on the small hip bone.

“Now…you go home Waves. In a few days when I’m finalised here with John Henry, I go home too.” Nicole kissed her cheek softly as she bent down.

She would have given up anything she had for Waverly to stay with her. To stay in their private little world for moments longer, soaking each other in until they were full and bursting at the seams for release, only being able to seek it from the other. 

But the world didn’t work that way, what came would go, even when you didn’t want it to. This was a different _kind_ of departure but it was a departure none the less, for the both of them.

Nicole had to be strong for both herself and Waverly. She could naturally sense the smaller woman in front of her doing the same.

“You have my number, Earp.”

“You have my number, Haught.” Waverly mirrored back with a tiny smile.

“When you get home it will be okay. No more waiting days on end, you can talk to me whenever you want.” The Photographer smiled, albeit weakly.

“We can arrange to see each other as often as we can. You’re one plane ride away, Earp always remember that. Just one plane ride, not the other side of the world.” Nicole gave in with keeping strong and hugged Waverly fiercely.

Waverly fully turned and pressed in to her midsection tightly, refusing to let her go as she spoke in to her chest, tears forming as she did so.

“It’s still too far Nicole. It wasn’t enough time, damnit.” 

“Hey. Heeeeeyyy…come on now. We will make time to visit each other, make the time to talk every day. We may have spent one weekend together Waves but we’ve known each other for a long time. When you think about it, we’re both strong enough to do this. The connection we already had before this trip. We can _do_ this. Believe me when I say that we can make this work.” Nicole soothed her with her words as she ran her deft fingers through wavy, long hair.

The woman had surprised herself with the enormous internal shift. She was scared for Waverly to go but felt safe enough, _confident enough_ in her feelings that it was okay. They were going to be okay.

“Until we can’t anymore…” Waverly sniffed quietly.

“If that happens, we talk about it then. And only then. This is where trust plays its part, Earp.” Nicole smiled at her as she stood back, wiping away the few tears gliding down Waverly’s silken cheek.

“Alone isn’t the better road, okay? Not with you and I, not anymore. Every one leaves, except me. Except you. I trust that in you. Do you trust that in me?” The red head asked her honestly, as they stood at the departure lounge, Waverly’s flight being called for the first time for boarding.

“I do.” The small woman whispered back as she looked toward the gate.

“God I hate this. I actually hate this Haught.” 

“Here…” Nicole handed Waverly the envelope embossed with the hotel logo.

“What’s this?” Waverly looked puzzled as she stared at the paper in her hand.

“You have my number and I have yours. Connection is now instant. Or certainly quicker anyway.” The taller woman laughed quietly.

“But watching you sleep this morning…after everything that was last night. After this entire weekend with you. After everything that has been _you_ for all of these months…argh I guess I just felt nostalgic.” Nicole smiled and shrugged as the recognition registered on Waverly’s beautiful face.

“You wrote to me…” Waverly looked down at the envelope again as she whispered the words.

“You can’t read it until you’re in the air. Not in the plane. Not still on the tarmac. _In the air.”_ Nicole kissed her.

And kissed her and kissed her. 

As her heart broke at having to let her go home, knowing that she could never ask her or expect her to stay. As she memorised the words on the paper in the hands of the smaller woman, she kissed her. For everything they were and all that she hoped they were going to be, Nicole kissed her. 

Nicole heard the chimed reminder of Waverly’s flight number for the second time and forced herself to pull away. It was time for the small but mighty Historian to fly home. They hugged, they kissed repeatedly and hugged some more until finally she watched the back of the beautiful, strong woman that had changed her life disappear down the corridor.

Nicole knew it had to happen. As connected and intertwined as they were, they both had lives to lead in other places. As adults they were both very aware of the sobering fact that this would have to continue from a distance. Nicole knew. Damnit she fucking _knew_ but it didn’t hurt any less. Didn’t stop her being shattered and feeling a little lost, her heart already aching to have the smaller woman near her again. When Waverly arrived home, she would call. The Photographer would wait. They could _do_ this.

God she fucking missed her.

……..

Waverly sat expressionless, the tiny world inside of the aircraft bustling around her but she noticed none of it. The ache in her chest, her mouth, her hands. Every single part of her missing the alabaster toned woman.

Her mind screamed at her for having to leave but she knew she had to. Waverly had a life, an entire life in Ottawa that would not just disappear. She didn’t want that anyway. Her life was hers and she had built it, earned it and it wouldn’t be right to want to tear it down and be done with it. That was unrealistic and just stupid. The biggest part of her wanted to _share_ it. There was a big difference. The walk down the corridor was hard. Going home without Nicole, harder. 

As the plane taxied down the runway she thought of neutral skin, kiss swollen lips and conversations of failed relationships, mundane work tasks and weirdly formed friendships with others. She thought of waiting for Nicole to let her in deep enough, to share a side of herself the Photographer had hidden for many years. She thought of drunk, late night dates in cold parks in evening wear. She sat quietly and let the tears fall. 

Half an hour after they were airborne, Waverly asked for a whiskey and waited for it to arrive. She thanked the air host and sipped. Waverly took a deep breath and opened the envelope…

……..

_“If I could kiss you anywhere Waverly, it would be the place just behind your jaw. The ripple of beautiful tension that courses through you, so pleasurable to feel when I do so…_

_If I could touch you anywhere, it would be my thumb trailing over the edge of your soft, full lips, watching your eyes cloud over in lust…_

_If I could talk to you about anything, it would be migrating Whales and Forts made from pillows, aptly named Chateaus. Weird interns becoming beautiful friends, failed man-child’s and cliched tourist attractions, your mind coming alive as we converse and move through the emotions of it all…_

_If I could watch you it would be as you sleep. Knowingly haunted yet appearing so peaceful as I move to protect you from the ones that follow you in your dreams. Your exquisite shape under the gathered sheet breathtaking…_

_But if I could take you anywhere, from the Theatre’s to the Galleries. The parks to the Hotels. The magnificent little gardens to my bed, anywhere at all…I would take you home. I would take you home, Waverly Earp._

_You belong with me._

_Most importantly, you belong out in the world you have hidden yourself from. The strong, fierce woman that I have come to know and have now seen…don’t hide, Waverly._

_Walk it with me._

_We haven’t had the conversation yet but we will before you leave and the answer is, because I love you._

_We will make this work, because I love you Waverly and I know that some day soon, I will take you home._

_Always yours,_

_Nicole xxxx”_

……..

Waverly couldn’t have been happier she was sitting alone in her row. The tears were never ending and numerous as she read Nicole’s loops and swirls over and over and _over_ again. 

Nicole was smart.

She knew that at some point that day, before Waverly departed, the hard conversation about “how do we do this” would arise, Nicole waiting for her ink to give her honest answer. Waverly realised the letter must have been composed before she even woke that morning. The Photographer knew to tell Waverly to read the letter once she was in the air, Nicole knowing her well enough already to foresee that if she had read it earlier, Waverly would have found a way off the damn plane.

Maybe reading it alone after she had left wasn’t so bad. Waverly was speechless. If they had been standing in front of each other after she had read it or Nicole had instead spoken of it, Waverly would not have been able to contribute immediately.

How Nicole’s words owned her, ignited in her brain, her belly, her very core. Nicole Haught knew how to take her and turn every part of her on, in mind, body and soul. She saw every part of Waverly and knew how to treat it, knew how to treat and respect her. Just knew how to _read_ her.

Waverly ached for the home Nicole spoke of. 

As she clutched the letter to her chest and closed her eyes tight, missing the woman in the words, Waverly Earp thought about how far they had come as people. How far _she_ had come. All of the intricate little changes they had instigated within each other, that had amounted to the greatest changes of all. 

Allowing trust. 

Allowing love.

She opened her eyes and hummed quietly as she slowly exhaled. What a wonderful gift it was, to be in love with Nicole Haught. 

They would make this work until the day the Photographer took Waverly home.


	15. Where it all Began...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So. Buffalo next weekend huh?” Jeremy’s grin widened.
> 
> Waverly jumped up and down a little as she giggled like a love struck teenager.
> 
> “Buffalo next weekend…”

_“Meet me where it all began…_

_Saturday 8th, 4pm_

_All my love,_

_Nicole xxxx”_

Waverly stared at the beautiful loops and swirls on the crisp, white paper as she grinned widely.

“Next Saturday huh? Guess I need to book a flight…” Waverly giggled and couldn’t contain her excitement. 

Letters had ceased to be exchanged between herself and the Photographer, for well over seven or eight months so of course she was surprised to come across the little gem when she checked her mailbox.

“What are you up to, Haught? I wonder…” Waverly chewed on her bottom lip as she wandered down the possibility path in her mind.

“Still a nasty habit Waverly. Tsk tsk…” Jeremy chimed in behind her, startling her from her thoughts.

“Damnit Jeremy! How. Many. Times. Do I need to say it? Don’t sneak up on me!” Waverly laughed as she threw a small book of Post-it’s at the man, watching as he ducked and laughed back.

“Well someone needs to keep you on your toes when Nicole isn’t here, huh?” He questioned in jest.

“Speaking of…” The small Historian handed Jeremy the white piece of paper.

“Oooohhhhhh my Goooooooodddddd.” He sang excitedly after he read the few short lines.

“When did you get it?! And what does it mean?! And are you going?! And it’s been four months since you’ve seen each other! And oh my _God_ this is gonna be so good! Rambling? Am I rambling? Yeah…I’m rambling…”

Waverly laughed. God she loved him and his awkward, weird little ways. She couldn’t picture her life without him in it any longer and some days, the small woman still found that to be an entirely strange feeling.

“Um okay so, today and it means I need to go to a bookshop in Buffalo. And yes I’m definitely going. Also I, of _all_ people, am aware that it has been four months since I’ve seen her. _Very_ freaking aware…” Waverly answered all at once.

Being away from Nicole was always hard. _Always._ As time moved on for them, it was becoming more and more difficult to say goodbye at airports, never really knowing when either one of them could organise the next visit. Over the last 12 months since Manhattan, they had seen each other four times. The visits were never long enough and they were too far in between but this was the real world and both of them had to live in it. They both had jobs and lives to attend to.

The current time period since they had last seen each other in person, had been the longest since the weekend they had met. Four months of texting, calling and video chats were adequate but never for long periods when they both craved each other’s company. What was hard for Waverly, was just as hard for Nicole.

“Also you wait until I talk to her next. Everyday we speak. Every. Day. She never mentioned a word about sending me a letter…” Waverly trailed off as she escaped back in to her mind, Jeremy pulling her back quickly.

“I think it’s sweet. To have a reminder every now and then of where you guys kicked this all off, even if neither of you knew at the time what it would eventually lead to. It’s actually pretty cool.” Jeremy smiled at her as he tagged the papers on her desk with coloured tabs for her to sign.

“So. Buffalo next weekend huh?” Jeremy’s grin widened.

Waverly jumped up and down a little as she giggled like a love struck teenager.

“Buffalo next weekend…”

……..

“All set, Haught. Saturday is yours.” Rosita smiled at the auburn haired woman as she handed her a beer.

“I can’t thank you enough Rosie, really.”

“I still can’t believe it. Like, I’m _trying_ to remember her but so many people come through here it’s hard to recall. But the odds of…damn girl. You struck gold by finding that note. _Both_ of you so it would seem.” The caramel skinned woman shook her head in disbelief as she swigged her beer. 

“It seems so long ago now but sometimes, just like it was yesterday. I guess maybe because we took so long to meet and now…well we don’t get to see each other often.” A pang of sadness nipped at the pit of the Photographers belly at the thought of their sparse visits.

“How long?”

“This time? Four months.” Nicole frowned. 

“Damn Haught! All this to change that, huh?” Rosita looked around at the store.

“Maybe. Something like that.” Nicole smiled coyly as she sipped at the cold beer.

“Well I wish you luck. The odds of you two finding each other how you did? Fate. Destiny my friend. You have nothing to worry about.” Rosita patted her on the shoulder as she stood upright from her leaning position at the bench. 

“The book is under there –“ She pointed to the bench opposite her.

“- last thing you want is someone taking it when you need it. Don’t forget on Saturday where it is.”

“I won’t, thanks Rosie.” Nicole lifted her beer towards her as she turned to leave the unique little shop.

The Photographer let out a huff of air as she made her way to the park to see Bobo. Not long now and she would see her beautiful girl again. Waverly had called the night she had received the note, asking her what she was up to. Nicole would only say that she wanted to take her on a date and nothing more.

Waverly had been so busy with her work and the new exhibits and Nicole had been snowed under showing in Manhattan and Boston Galleries, that they split their time as much as they could allow for each other. One of the pair had always managed to fly to the other every seven to eight weeks if they could. They had both been so busy with things that couldn’t be shifted, this time around and so it had extended out to four months.

It was killing Nicole. The constant ache she carried around for Waverly was at times, all consuming. She had taken so long to trust and open up completely and she had fallen hard. They were making their situation work for the both of them as the year had passed but the gap was too much. Nicole refused to ever let them go that long again without seeing each other in the flesh.

“I see you drank two on the way?” Bobo questioned as he looked at the two empty slots in the six pack holder.

“Long walk.” Nicole shrugged as she laughed and sat down on the cold grass with the bearded painter, handing him an amber bottle.

As they toasted each other and drank, she felt Bobo watching her intently, as she watched the traffic across the road.

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Scared?”

“Like you wouldn’t fucking believe.”

“Then it’s worth doing, Haught.”

She smiled as she watched the traffic.

……..

“Can it be tomorrow already?!” Waverly sighed heavily as she slumped back on the bed, staring at the packed bag in the corner. 

“Soon Waves. The wait is torture but soon.” Nicole replied, Waverly hearing the smile in her words.

“It’s too long. We can’t go this long again. Our conversations are always stimulating sweetie but I also need the _other_ kind of stimulation from you…” Waverly giggled quietly as she heard Nicole moan through the line.

“Shh Waverly. Don’t start or I think I’ll explode! It’s _definitely_ too long. You’re in a lot of trouble when you get here..” The Photographer trailed off.

“So are you, Nicole.” Waverly smiled to herself as she thought about previous instances of pale skin underneath her, moving against her body as she felt Nicole unwind beautifully.

God Waverly missed her! She couldn’t wait to be in her arms, safe and loved. She never needed Nicole to make her feel complete but she certainly knew she would want her always. The best decision Waverly had ever made, was the decision to take the Photographer’s hand and walk through the world with her, side by side.

“Are you going to tell me what this date is about?” Waverly ventured, knowing the tall woman wouldn’t give her the slightest hint.

“You’ll just have to wait and see, Waves. I miss you. I can’t wait to see you. I just…argh I miss everything about you!” 

Nicole craftily steered away from the smaller woman’s question with her flattery. Waverly let it slide as she swooned at the comments, feeling the exact same way. As they conversed in to the early hours of the morning, Waverly began to notice her heavy eyelids. She yawned quietly as she prompted Nicole to end the call and video call instead. She smiled as her auburn haired beauty came to life on the screen moments later.

“Stay with me if I sleep?” Waverly questioned as she yawned quietly again, resting her head on the pillow, turned towards the screen leaning on the other side. 

“Always Waves. I work, you sleep. It’s normally how it goes.” Nicole smiled at her as she turned to pour Developer in one of her trays, going about her nightly work as Waverly watched her through the screen.

How she loved to watch her work. Sometimes it was hard because of the dim lighting but the more she watched, the more Nicole had explained and Waverly began to pick up certain movements, actions and directions to give her the bigger picture. Nicole truly was an artist. In how she worked, in how she thought. In how she imagined an image to be. It was everything to Waverly, to watch her be so passionate. 

One of the things the small Historian loved the most, was how much passion she knew Nicole carried for her. She knew because Nicole spoke to her and _about_ her, the same way she spoke about her images. The Photographer’s fingertips would trail over every inch of her skin, with the same softness and attention to detail they applied to the film, the photo paper, the finished product once it was exposed. 

Nicole always treated Waverly like she was a work of art. Something never to be possessed but to be honoured, appreciated, at times worshipped. Revered. She always took her time, never rushing an intimate interaction between them, no matter how much either of them may have wanted it. What would start as rushed and lust filled, would always evolve in to so much more, whether it be from Waverly’s gentle direction or the Photographer’s. Erotic, seductive, incredibly intimate. Waverly lived for those moments with Nicole. _Craved_ them. She had never experienced anything quite like their connection, ever.

Waverly began to drift off as Nicole continued to work, all the many miles away from her. 

“Soon…” she whispered quietly, with a smile.

“Soon, beautiful girl.” Nicole replied just as quiet.

“Good night Nicole, I love you.” 

“Love you too, Waves.”

When Waverly awoke to her alarm four hours later, Nicole had ended the call about an hour after she had fallen in to her slumber. Waverly read the text message.

 **Nicole:** Still the most graceful soul in the world when you sleep, Waverly Earp. I miss you with all that I am and can’t wait to see you later on today. Sweetest of dreams xxx

She smiled as she rose straight away, too excited to let the tiredness overtake her. Today she would see her girl. She couldn’t get to the airport quick enough.

……..

Nicole checked her watch time and again as she clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, stopping only to sip at the beer on the bar.

“Haught. I swear I’m going to take the watch off you, soon enough.” Bobo grumbled from beside her.

“Sorry. Sorry. Just nerves I think.”

“Well. The beer will fix that, have another one.” Bobo gestured to the bar tender for two more.

“It’s gonna be okay, Nicole. You can’t fail at something that’s fated.” Bobo swigged at his beer.

That was about as wisdom filled as he was going to get. They sat and watched the rest of the game before the red head called it an afternoon, making her way out to the bookshop. 

“It’s worth doing, Haught.” She repeated to herself as she walked the pavement to the little shop, the sentence becoming her mantra when it came to Waverly Earp, so it seemed.

……..

Nicole caught her breath as Waverly walked through the door, jacket, jeans, wavy long hair around her shoulders as she unwound the scarf from around her neck.

“Waves…” Nicole said breathlessly as she rushed to her, grin wider and wider the closer she approached.

Waverly didn’t have time to utter a word and Nicole’s warm lips were upon hers. Kissing her with want, need, closing the distance that had been between them moment by moment. Waverly melted in to the Photographer’s hold and Nicole gripped tighter. She gripped fiercely. Waverly drew her arms up so her hands could clasp the back of the taller woman’s neck, bringing her downwards, impossibly closer to her body. 

They kissed and lost track of time and it didn’t matter. Their own private little world had returned and neither of them were willing to leave it for the moment. Waverly’s tongue found Nicole’s and they danced together in perfect rhythm, as if no time or distance had ever happened over the last four months. Nicole’s hands found their way underneath the smaller woman’s jacket and she moaned as her palms found Waverly’s waist, grasping her protectively, like she was never going to hold her again.

Waverly eventually pulled back and broke their contact as both of them stood breathlessly, Nicole clutching to Waverly’s hips as the smaller woman released the shirt material she had balled up in both hands. The Historian took her perfect hazel away from the liquid honey as she finally took in her surroundings.

“Wow sweetie…you’ve made it…so _beautiful_.” Waverly trailed off as she continued to look around.

Soft glowing candles placed on countertops and tables. Amber fairy lights strung from bookshelves and ceiling beams. Soft music playing in the background from behind the counter to her left. Nicole had made the space as quiet and relaxing as she could manage for their reunion. The taller woman moved past Waverly to lock the entrance as she took her by the hand, leading her to a table. She sat with her as she handed her a glass of wine.

“I’ve missed you Waves. This time it’s been…Urgh just the _worst_ not being in your company.” Nicole let out a small laugh and forced breath.

“Well you know, I’ve had worse dates…I figured you were worth the plane ride though.” Waverly winked at the red head as she giggled.

“Do you remember our letters, Waves? Do you remember coming in here?” Nicole gestured around them.

“I do, Nicole. I remember your words, your lettering, almost everything. How each letter made me feel when I received it, how it made me feel to reply. How I fell for you a little more each time. The best thing I ever did, was walk in here and sit at that table behind you and write in that book. And there isn’t one ounce of a lie in any of those words, Haught.” Waverly was direct and sincere, her face softening as she spoke, making Nicole want to wrap her up and kiss her until she couldn’t take any more.

“Do you?” The small Historian asked.

“You spoke to me before you even spoke to me Waverly.” Nicole replied honestly.

“I found those words and I…well I knew they were for me. It was as if I was on auto pilot, knowing I had to reply. Out of my control. Took me until I got home to realise that and reply though.” Nicole put her hands up in mock surrender as she smiled, dimples on display.

“Oh really?” Waverly said skeptically as she cocked an eyebrow over her wine glass, laughing softly.

“Really. Because he’s mine.” Nicole stared at her, knowing she wouldn’t understand the reference, as she leant closer to her over the table.

“But I’ve never told you that..”

She watched Waverly’s features change to slight confusion in the candlelight as her brow furrowed ever so gently. Intrigue crossed her face and the sparkle in her eyes lit the fire in Nicole’s belly. Waverly was the most beautiful person she had ever been blessed to sit in front of.

“Who is?” Waverly asked quietly.

“Gabriel.” Nicole answered simply as she slid the book over to Waverly’s side of the table, never breaking eye contact with her.

She watched as the smaller woman’s breath caught in her throat at the realisation that underneath Nicole’s hand, was the book she had left her message to the Universe in.

“It’s still here…” Waverly whispered as she broke eye contact to look at the cover.

“Open it.” Nicole gestured to the page she had dog eared.

Waverly quietly opened to the page of the moss covered Angel. Standing proud, she smiled at him. Nicole placed her hand over Waverly’s, stopping the movements of her tracing his wings with her fingertips. Hazel met kind brown.

“I never understood the urge to reply to you. How they spoke to me the way they did, your words I mean. The spark they ignited within me. They spoke to my sadness and my quiet in a way nothing else did. And then I realised, it was because your words were meant for me. No one else Waverly. Just me.” 

Nicole whispered softly as she pointed to the over exposed, grainy shot, tapping gently on the image.

“Because he’s mine…”

Waverly looked at her as if time itself had stopped, mouth coming slightly agape. After a small moment she directed her gaze back downwards.

“Oh my God this is your shot.” Simply stated, yet coming with the realisation that the Universe maybe, just maybe, had intervened for the pair of lone walkers.

“It is...” Nicole smiled warmly as she watched Waverly in awe. 

God how she wanted her. She had never loved anyone as much as she loved the small Historian. The Survivor. The Conqueror. 

“Of all of the shots…you wrote on _this_ one. How could I not reply?” Nicole smiled again as she took a sip of her wine.

“Oh my God this is incredible!” Waverly burst out.

“The odds would be…Jesus I don’t even know! _This_ shot. Fuck when I told the Universe good luck it must have just been pissing itself laughing at me.” Waverly shook her head and couldn’t stem the laugh that escaped her own lips.

Nicole shook her head as well, taking another sip of wine to calm her nerves, as she watched Waverly begin to absentmindedly correct the dog eared page the Photographer had folded back down earlier. Here we go. She let out a breath.

Waverly became still, her fingers the only thing moving as she traced the fresh ink that had appeared underneath her own.

“Marry me…” she whispered quietly, repeating what she was reading underneath the corrected folded corner.

She looked to Nicole, tears shining in the lids of her eyes, emotion beginning to encroach on her gorgeous features.

“Nicole, wha-“

“- marry me. Because I could watch you for a single minute and find one _thousand_ things that I love about you.”

Nicole took her hand softly as she spoke.

“Marry me, because I don’t want the world Waverly, I just want you.”

“Marry me because I’ll happily spend my life running through your Canadian snow, trying to chase down and photograph the Grey Jay if I have to, if it means we’re together.” 

Tears fell, Nicole felt them, mirroring the ones falling from Waverly across from her as she held fast to the smaller woman’s hand for the courage to continue.

“But mostly…marry me Waverly because your heart understands mine. Even in our silence. Because I love you. Because _screw_ the distance, let me bring you home. You belong with me.”

“Marry. Me.” 

Tears streamed and were wiped away as Nicole watched the graceful woman before her fail to find the words. She leant over, grabbing a pen from her bag as she wrote two simple words underneath the two above, pushing the book back towards the Photographer.

Nicole beamed as she read them. 

_“God yes.”_

Taking Waverly’s hand and helping her up from the table, Nicole kissed her passionately, as the moss covered Angel proudly looked on from the open book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I have had such a wonderful time dancing around in this AU! Your comments are some of the most beautiful I have ever received and I am overjoyed that so many of you have loved this work. Take care of each other out there, especially now and look forward to hugging your fellow humans again when it is safe to do so! x


End file.
